The Assassin: WOOHP Files
by Nate Sindel
Summary: An assassin for WOOHP begins to question who and what he is. Join us for all the action, fun, and drama that entails as he searches for his puropse. UPDATE! WOOH! Chapter 13 is online and ready to be read! Please review, it's like candy for us writers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies.  
  
Okay, I'm back in business. Since my Kim Possible fics seemed to be doing so well, I decided that I might as well try my hand at some other spy fics. And what better than Totally Spies? The main character, named after myself, is the same, but it's a completely different story. Don't be alarmed by some OOCness, most of my fics are full of it anyway. Alright, now that that's all taken care of, who thinks I should just get to the story?  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
***** - scene change  
  
=+= flashback =+= - self-explanatory  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 1  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nate Sindel, assassin for WOOHP (World Organization Of Human Protection) sat in a small box seat at an opera, calmly watching as the fat lady sang, relieved that it was almost over. He did have a job to do after all. Which was the assassination of the person in the box across from him. Slowly his hand slipped into his pocket, and unzipped the bottom of it, reaching for the long-barreled gun hidden there. Once he had retrieved it, he held it below the rail of the box, and slipped the long silencer through one of the gaps. His target never saw it coming as the trigger was squeezed, and only the most inaudible of sounds was heard. The old man felt only a slight twinge of pain as the dart stuck into the side of his neck, and he was dead before he knew what hit him.  
  
'Looks like the neurotoxin did its work,' he thought as he stood and stepped through the door, making his way to the lobby. 'Act casual, don't draw attention.'  
  
"Sir, the show isn't over, did it not meet to your approval?" asked a young woman behind the desk in the lobby.  
  
"No, it's not that," he said with a small smile, "I just have a prior engagement to attend."  
  
"Of course," she bowed respectively, which he returned, his green braid slipping forward over his shoulder.  
  
*****  
  
Once outside, he stepped into an alley and removed the bow tie from around his neck. Instantly the rest of his clothes began to change from a tuxedo to a green tank top, tucked into baggy black pants and black boots (think Heero Yuy (Gundam Wing) meets Cloud (FF7)). The waist-length green braid behind him was reminiscent of Duo Maxwell, also from Gundam Wing.  
  
"Feels good to be back in my own clothes," he said as he made his way to the end of the alley. "Let's see if I remember this, fourth brick from the bottom, second from the right."  
  
He tapped the right brick and the wall split open, revealing an elevator. Stepping inside, he pressed the button for the basement, and felt the omnipresent lurch as it started downward. The gun barrel tapped lightly against his thigh, and his head was tilted back slightly.  
  
"Another day, another job done, maybe I'll take a vacation," he thought aloud looking up at the numbers as they changed. "Who am I kidding, they won't even let me leave."  
  
The elevator jerked to a halt, and the door slid open, but it wasn't his floor. Three girls he had seen before, but never met, stepped in. All three seemed to be a year or two younger than himself, and not even out of high school yet. One wore green, another wore yellow, and the last one wore red. One was a redhead, the other had black hair, and the last one was blonde. He eyed them all for a few seconds and shifted his gun from his right to his left hand, slipping it into the holster.  
  
"What do you think Jerry wants this time?" the blonde asked.  
  
"Don't know Clover, we're just gonna have to find out for ourselves," answered the redhead.  
  
'So, these are the three agents that he's been telling me about,' he thought while still eyeing them up and down, not displeased with what he saw. 'I don't see what's so special about them.'  
  
The elevator ground to a stop and the doors opened, all four stepping out into Jerry's office. Nate had slid around them and walked right up to the head of WOOHP, unholstered his weapon and placed it on the desk. Placing his hands on either side of it.  
  
"We need to talk about the poison in these darts, its not acting fast enough," he said removing the cartridge. "The guy I shot lasted about two seconds, that's two seconds too long."  
  
"That's the most powerful poison we have in stock," Jerry said picking up the magazine full of small darts. "Well, I'll send them a memo, just wait outside the door, I need to talk to you a little later."  
  
"Understood," he turned on his heel and started walking, passing by three stunned girls.  
  
The doors opened and closed with his exiting, leaving three spies with a few questions.  
  
"Jerry, who was that?" Alex asked while picking up and examining the weapon.  
  
"Oh, Nate, he's one of our assassins," Jerry said nonchalantly while looking through some files.  
  
"An assassin, I thought WOOHP agents didn't kill, only captured," Sam said.  
  
"Yes, well, technically he's not an official WOOHP agent," he shuffled a few papers and turned around to the screen behind him. "He's my son."  
  
"You're son?!" the three spies asked, awestruck.  
  
"Yes, what's so hard to believe about that?" the head of WOOHP asked when he found the right file. "See?"  
  
Nate Sindel's file popped up onto the screen, no picture came with it, for security purposes. It did give most of the rest of information: name, age, height, weight, relatives, and other such things. Nothing but the essentials was given; the system had been hacked before, and they weren't going to have their security compromised.  
  
"It's still kinda hard to see you as a father, Jerry," Clover said while trying to suppress a giggle.  
  
"How do you think I'm able to deal with teenagers so well?"  
  
"I always wondered about that," Alex said. "So what's the mission?"  
  
"Well, you all understand the system of continental drift, and the fault lines that encompass each continent plate. We've had reports from our geological department of strange activity on the San Andreas Fault. Something, or someone, is causing erratic shifts, creating massive earthquakes."  
  
"Now we know where that quake came from," Sam said to the other two, who nodded in agreement.  
  
"Actually, what you felt today was only the aftershocks of a tremor that hit about a hundred miles north of Beverly Hills."  
  
"No way, the news said it measured, like, four-point-two on the Richter Scale."  
  
"Yes, the actually quake measure a perfect ten, the area was completely leveled," a picture of wasteland appeared on the screen, several collapsed buildings littered the ground. "We believe this to be a test, and a successful one at that."  
  
"Where's the disturbance centralized?"  
  
"Here, at the exact center of the fault line," he pointed to a flashing light on the map. "Now, get to the hangar, your gadgets are waiting for you there."  
  
The floor beneath them opened and they fell through.  
  
"Nate, come in."  
  
"What?" he asked stepping through the door and adjusting his hair a little. "Someone else you need me to take care of?"  
  
"Yes, the three spies who just left, I want you to follow them. Usually they come through, but I've sent better agents than them, and none have come back. I want you to cover them, as backup, nothing more."  
  
"Right, backup," he rolled his eyes and turned around.  
  
"I mean it this time."  
  
The door closed and Nate took the elevator to the hangar; he arrived a few seconds after the girls' plane had taken off. He stepped up to his plane, looking very much like all the others, except it was green. Upon sitting in the chair he felt a small twinge at the base of his skull, the feeling that came from being connected to the plane. The controls lit up with a single thought and the engines fired up, moving him towards the launch doors.  
  
*****  
  
"Guys, this is creeping me out," Alex said as they walked down the hall. "There's no one here, but I still get the feeling we're being watched."  
  
"Me too," Clover added while lightly holding herself.  
  
They had made it to the center of the fault line, and found something they really hadn't expected to see. A massive hole right in the fault, with large cylinders, at least 50 feet in diameter, sticking up. There were eleven in all, fitted into a line along the fault, and were humming slightly. On top of the very center one was a building, where they had entered. Now they were completely lost, and weren't really sure where to go.  
  
-----  
  
Nate had followed, as he was ordered, and entered soon after them. He had actually been right behind them, ducking in and out of side passages. He didn't mind the welcome break from his other missions, but this was far too dull for him. Just walking and walking and more walking, not finding anything. After getting fed up with this he decided to go on his own. What he had found was not what he wanted to see; a room full of bodies hanging upside down, decapitated and skinned, like a meat locker for humans. He counted nine bodies, the three spy teams Jerry had sent ahead of them.  
  
"Shit," he ran through the door, it was time to make his presence known. 'Why do I feel like this, they're fellow spies, so why is the drive to protect them so strong?'  
  
-----  
  
"This isn't good," Sam said while choking back the bile rising in her throat.  
  
They had stumbled upon the place where the bodies had been mutilated. Alex was standing outside, having thrown up once when they walked in, then again when Clover had thrown up. She didn't have a very strong constitution when it came to things such as this. On had rested on her stomach, the other was held over her mouth, just in case. Clover was sitting on the floor next to her, in much the same way. Sam came out a few seconds later and turned away from them, vomiting where they couldn't see her.  
  
"Who would do something like that?" Alex asked looking up at the gray metal of the ceiling.  
  
"A sociopath," said a calm voice.  
  
All three looked up at Nate, who wasn't really looking at them; he was looking down the hall. Eyes trained as if trying to spot something in the distance. Finally he turned to look at them, and a line of something flashed across his eyes. The door to the lab closed and locked.  
  
"And he's near," he continued.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Sam asked trying to wipe some of the stomach acid from her lips.  
  
"No time for explanations, you three have to get out of here," he stooped to help Clover to her feet.  
  
Even though she was confused and still feeling slightly sick, she still had enough strength and composure to make "goo goo eyes" at him. He ignored them and let go when she was on her feet, moving over to check Alex. From his belt he produced three pills, and handed one to each of them.  
  
"Those should help with the stomach thing," he said while stepping up to a terminal in the wall.  
  
The lines flashed across his eyes again and the computer came to life. Files were accessed and downloaded, other deleted, others activated. All the while his eyes stared intently at the screen, never even lifting a finger to touch the keypad. After a few minutes he looked back at them.  
  
"What are you still doing here, get back to your jet," he said harshly.  
  
"Hey, Jerry gave us this mission, and we're gonna carry it out," Clover said feeling better from the pill.  
  
Nate sighed and went back to the console. Immediately a large blast door closed right next to Clover, causing her to jump into his arms, he promptly dropped her. Such things were irrelevant to him, after that time in his life, he had vowed to never get involved with anyone, ever again. It had made him cold, hollow, the perfect vessel for death.  
  
"I ran into the other agent teams that Jerry sent," he said calmly without taking his eyes off the screen. "They were completely mutilated and left hanging upside down in a freezer."  
  
"Oh man," Alex said placing her hand over her mouth.  
  
"There, the self-destruct sequence has been activated," he looked at them seeing them as what they were, scared teenagers. "Follow me."  
  
They did exactly that, following him through the halls at top speed, to get to the exit. It wasn't far, since they hadn't gone down any stairs to get to the lower levels. Once outside they raced their respective jets and took off, flying side by side to get away. Nate hit his VTOL (Vertical Take Off and Landing) engines and hovered to watch the explosion. And it was one hell of an explosion at that, the entire are had been flattened, luckily they were out in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"Rest in peace, friends," Nate said and flew off.  
  
*****  
  
"I told you you were back up, did I not?" Jerry asked the young man standing in front of him.  
  
"Yes, but..."  
  
"No buts, I don't care what the situation was, you were not given orders to intervene."  
  
"Will you listen to me, they were mortal danger, what was I supposed to do?"  
  
The three spies in question were standing off to the side, waiting to be debriefed. In the mean time they were watching this squabble between father and son, a son who didn't so much respect.  
  
"Would you get off my case Jerry, you weren't there, you're never there," Nate pointed a finger at his father. "This person had decapitated them, most likely after skinning them alive, then stuck them on meat hooks. Four women and five men, dead, and you're telling me that I wasn't allowed to save three more. For the love of god, they're children."  
  
"Well...uh..."  
  
"Don't you dare tell me that what I did was wrong? Why don't you go on a few missions, then tell me that my actions were out of line," he turned to the three girls. "I'll see you around."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"See ya round," Alex waved cheerfully.  
  
The doors closed with its usual hiss sound as he left. Surely if the door had been on hinges, then he would have slammed it off those hinges. The girls turned back to Jerry, who was straitening his tie, trying to regain his composure. They waited silently for him to get ready.  
  
"Girls, I want to say that you did a good job today, even though you were interrupted," he mumbled the last part.  
  
"Jerry, you didn't tell us about the other teams you sent there, why?" Sam asked quickly.  
  
"Well...I..."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I wanted to know," Clover jumped in too.  
  
"And why didn't you tell us you had a really cute son?" Alex asked.  
  
"Yea...what?" the other two looked at her.  
  
She just smiled and decided to stay quiet, hanging back behind the others who, at the moment, were busy grilling the head of WOOHP. He didn't fully answer any of their questions, they never gave him a chance. There wasn't much else he could do with them interrupting him every two seconds with a new question. Then Sam finally got around to a final question.  
  
"Back at that place, he accessed a computer by looking at it, how did he do that?" she asked slamming her open palms on the desk.  
  
"Well," he glared at Clover, who was about to interrupt, "we 'enhanced' him, a little with cybernetic components. Look."  
  
The screen behind him was covered with black and white lab photos that showed a young boy of about ten, sitting on a table with his back cut open and large metal plates being put in under the skin. They couldn't see his face, but they figured that he was most likely unconscious with plenty of painkillers. Other photos showed what they did to his arms, legs, feet, hands, eyes, skull, and even his mouth and nose. Some of the pictures reminded them of the room they had been in not too long before. In that room had been the uniforms, heads, and skins of the other agents.  
  
"Please, turn it off," Alex said as she shielded her eyes. "Please."  
  
"Alright," he turned the screen off and the three of them turned back to him.  
  
"How could you do that to your own son?" Clover asked with a bit of a sickened expression.  
  
"He volunteered, after his mother had been..." he stopped there, having already said too much.  
  
"What happened to her?"  
  
"That doesn't concern you girls, I don't even know why I'm telling you this," he reached for a button to send them back. "Have a good night, you'll need it for the test tomorrow."  
  
A large vacuum came down and sucked them up into it, depositing them somewhere in Beverly Hills.  
  
*****  
  
Nate stood with a few other agents in a line in the firing range. In his hand was his trusty Colt 45 long barrel, reverse barrel revolver (like the one used in Trigun, with the added feature of an Angel Arm). He was glad one of the people in R&D watched anime, or else he would have had such a destructive weapon at his disposal. Carefully he took aim and fired, placing the bullet directly in the head of his target. Then he just went by where the barrel pointed, not using the sights; every bullet that hit the target hit exactly where he had it pointed. One in each arm, one in each leg, two in the chest and one in the groin. He pressed the release button to pop the chamber and unloaded the six empty shells. Then he placed in six bullets attached to an apparatus to hold them, and squeezed it to release them.  
  
"Nate, you don't have to overdo it, you know?" one of the female agents, a brunette, said looking at the thirty empty shells around his feet.  
  
He turned to look at her, holding the gun at the target and fired all six round in a few seconds. One hit the target dead center, the other five grouped around it.  
  
"I know, Sarah, but it's just too boring around here," he said as he holstered the gun.  
  
"Then why not ask for some time off?" she said with a little smile. "Maybe you and I could grab a cup of coffee."  
  
"That idiot of father won't let me take time off. He's so uptight about me being found out that he'll come up with some stupid excuse. Just the other day he said that the technicians had tests to run on the Angel Arm. They've run all the tests that they could and it works fine."  
  
"So, sneak out, they can't stop you. Come on, it might be fun."  
  
"Yeah, sure, why the hell not?"  
  
He followed her out of the room, both of them depositing the safety goggles and headphones in the basket by the door. There was no way to tell where she was leading him, he couldn't read a human mind, but he did know his way around WOOHP. They were headed for the personnel levels that housed the faculty and agents who lived on the base; his room was on this level. She continued to lead him to her door, and stepped inside, telling him she would be out in a minute.  
  
'It's just coffee between friends,' he thought to himself. 'No more, no less; she's three years older than I am anyway.'  
  
She emerged a minute later wearing jeans and a loose sweatshirt, civilian clothes. She smiled at him, and he returned it accordingly and his clothing began to change. Over his tank top and black pants grew a sleeveless green trench coat (like Vash the Stampede's, only green and without the sleeves). He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted it a little.  
  
"Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Slipping his hands into his pockets they walked to the elevator to the surface. He knew the cameras were following him, but with a little look at a computer terminal, they were caught in a playback. The part of his leaving was deleted as the cameras froze briefly with a blank view of the corridors and elevator.  
  
*****  
  
"Oh...my...GOD!" Clover screamed looking in the window of her favorite store. "Look at those shoes, those are perfect to go with my new pants."  
  
"Hey yeah, those are good too," Alex pointed at another pair.  
  
"No, these are better."  
  
"Guys, is that who I think it is?" Sam asked as she looked at the Starbucks.  
  
"Where?" Alex looked over her shoulder, as to get a direct line to where she was looking. "Hey, I think that is him."  
  
"Him who?" Clover said while still eyeing the shoes.  
  
"I thought Jerry said he wasn't allowed outside of HQ?"  
  
"Well, Sarah's with him, I guess she's his escort," Sam shrugged and looked at the window of the shoe store.  
  
They continued to shop, slowing making their way closer to the coffee shop. Every now and then they would sneak a glance at the table. Every time they looked the two at the table weren't talking, as if they were having a silent conversation. In actuality Sarah and Nate had nothing to talk about, this was exactly what he had figured it to be, coffee between friends.  
  
"Well, look who's here," Clover said with mock surprise as she stepped up to the table. She called back to the others, "Guys, it is them."  
  
"Hey Clover," Sarah said and took a sip of her mocha latte, Nate said nothing. "See you guys have done some shopping."  
  
She said this while eyeing the five or so bags hooked onto each girl's arms, all that bags seemed stuffed to capacity. All three girls took seats at the table, Alex being quick to grab the one next to the silent male.  
  
"Yeah, just the bare necessities," Sam placed the bags under the table and looked at the menu in the distance. "What're you guys doing here?"  
  
"Having coffee, what does it look like?" Nate asked giving her a stupid look.  
  
"Well obviously there's that, I mean why are guys here?"  
  
"Why didn't you just ask that then?" he took a sip of his coffee, black. "We just needed some fresh air."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The better half of the next five minutes was in silence, none of them could think of something to say. The girls thought that maybe they should talk to him and try and get to know him, he was fellow spy after all. None of them could think of where to start, or who should start. They shifted uncomfortably on the hard seats, having gotten used to sitting in cushioned booths. Alex decided to take the initiative and ask:  
  
"So, Nate, you...uh...got a girlfriend?" she asked finally breaking the silence.  
  
Nate almost spit out the coffee that was in his mouth, Sarah swallowed rather loudly, and Sam and Clover just looked at her. After the older agent had set his cup down and swallowed the rather bitter liquid, he turned to look at her,  
  
"No," he said simply and went back to his cup, which he now noticed was empty.  
  
Thankfully she didn't press the matter any further, leaving him to his thoughts as he held the empty cup. The three girls looked around awkwardly when Sarah went back to the counter to refill. None of them really wanted to believe what Jerry had told them, but there were the pictures.  
  
"Hey, Jerry's your dad, right? Why don't you call him that?" Clover asked.  
  
"I haven't called him that in almost eight years," he said with a light glare on his face. "He's not even my father really, the WOOHP doctors and technicians are my parents."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Why do you want to know these things?" he asked with a snap to his voice. "What business is it of yours?"  
  
"Well, we just figured that since we're all spies here, we might as well get to know each other," Sam snapped back, surprising him a little, making him smile.  
  
"You make a good argument," he said with a small laugh.  
  
Sarah arrived a few seconds later and was surprised to see him laughing. She had only known him to laugh when something was extremely funny, or when someone had outsmarted him. The spies she had known since they started at WOOHP, and none of them were exceptionally funny, so she went with the latter.  
  
"So, what do you want to know?" he asked.  
  
TBC  
  
There, I've got to cut it off there, the chapters getting too long for my liking. Anyway, I hope you like it, please review. All reviews will be taken, so go nuts. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
***** - scene change  
  
=+= flashback =+= - self-explanatory  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 2  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Just...a little...closer," Nate said under his breath.  
  
He was standing in front of a WOOHP computer, trying to find access codes for the door in front of him. This door led to an elevator, the elevator led to the basement of the sub-basement. Right as he was about to get it, a feedback pulse shot through the connection he'd set up with the terminal and caused him a severe headache. His connection broken, he staggered back against the far wall.  
  
"Dammit," he held his head, shaking it a little. "What are they hiding down there?"  
  
"Nate, what are you doing down here?" a familiar voice asked...Sarah.  
  
"Just tryin' to get through the door. What in there anyway?"  
  
"That's not for us to be concerned with, now come on, Jerry has a mission for you," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to illustrate her point.  
  
"Fine."  
  
*****  
  
"Let me get this straight Jerry," Sam said sounding somewhat confused. "You want to send him...to school...with us?"  
  
"Sam, he won't be there as a student, he's much too old, he'll be there as a substitute teacher. Don't worry, I've arranged that he won't be in any of your classes," Jerry said calmly.  
  
"What class will he be teaching?" Alex asked.  
  
"Chemistry."  
  
"Ya'know Jer, since it is out school, why not just have us take care of it?" Clover asked.  
  
"Because you see girls, you'll probably get pulled away for some other mission, and therefore wouldn't have time. With him there to constantly monitor the subject, you won't have to worry."  
  
"Oh," all three of them said.  
  
The door behind them slid open and Nate stepped in with Sarah, and he didn't look too happy. His hand looked as if it was itching to grab his Colt from its holster and shoot his father right then and there. Sarah was looking cheerful, though, she usually does.  
  
"What is this about?" he asked through gritted teeth, then mellowed when he said, "Hey girls."  
  
Since the last chapter ended with them getting the upper hand on him in that little argument, the four of them have gotten to know each other well enough to say they were beyond just being acquaintances. He answered some their questions and they answered his.  
  
"Hi," Alex said quickly.  
  
"Hey Nate," Sam.  
  
"Yeah, hi," Clover.  
  
"Now, what is this I hear about getting put on surveillance duty?" he turned his attention back to Jerry.  
  
"Most of our agents are out on missions, and there are no assassinations scheduled. So, instead of just having you sit around here, I'm putting you to work."  
  
"Makes sense," he said calming down. "What'll I be doing exactly?"  
  
"Well, since one of the chemistry teachers is out with the flu, you'll be taking her place. Now, it's junior chemistry, so we'll have to upload the proper information. You'll be starting tomorrow, so you had better get to sleep early tonight."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Since it's our school you'll be going to, I think one of us should show you around first," Sam said.  
  
"Good idea, Sam," Jerry said, "but which one?"  
  
"I'll do it," Alex said raising her hand.  
  
"Alright."  
  
Nate looked over at the young girl who was going to be his guide through the high school. He knew her understanding of that place was much greater than his. What was unknown to him, though, was why she would do this. It seemed to him that a student would rather not be chummy with a teacher, unless they were trying to get something in return. But she wouldn't even be in his class, so what was the point?  
  
'She's just helpful, that's all,' he figured.  
  
"Okay then, Alex start briefing him on what he'll need to know. Sam and Clover, you're free to go," Jerry said and pressed a button.  
  
*****  
  
"So, this Mandy person, I should watch out for her?" Nate asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, if her and Clover are even in the same room together they go ballistic," Alex said. "I'd advise not getting in the middle."  
  
They had left WOOHP headquarters and headed for wherever. Nate had a feeling, though, that Alex was subconsciously heading for the mall. It didn't matter to him, all he wanted was information. And Alex was providing plenty of it.  
  
"That's good to know."  
  
"Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"What happened to you mom, I mean, Jerry almost told us, but he stopped."  
  
"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else, alright?"  
  
"Can I tell Sam and Clover?"  
  
"Not even them, well, maybe Sam, but not Clover, I wouldn't trust her with something like this."  
  
"Well, alright."  
  
"My mother was a spy for WOOHP, it was where she met my father. They used her as a test subject for this thing they put inside me. She...didn't survive the procedure," he said in a lowered voice.  
  
"Is that why you don't act like Jerry is your dad?"  
  
"That would be the main reason. Once these machines became part of me, I ceased being his son and began a new life as an assassin."  
  
Alex felt that he wasn't telling her the whole story, but she just shrugged it off and continued walking.  
  
*****  
  
Nate stood in front of the door again, his hand resting on the cold titanium. He couldn't figure it out, something was drawing him to whatever was behind the door. His hand pulled away when he heard an alarm. The sound of a seal breaking filled the air, and steam, or something, was billowing out from around the door.  
  
"What the hell?"  
  
As he watched, the solid piece of metal split in half and slid apart. What met him was an empty room about ten feet by ten feet. Stepping inside he turned around in time to see the door close, and he made no move to stop it. He was in darkness for a few seconds before a light in the ceiling turned on. There was a lurch and the floor began to descend, away from the light.  
  
As he went down lights on the walls turned on. He didn't know how far down he had gone when the elevator finally stopped, but he did know that it was getting colder. The wall before him opened to reveal a large room, a very cold room. He walked in, looking around him at the bare walls, tubing and circuitry exposed. Even though temperature didn't affect him as much as it would a normal person, he still felt the need to tug the front of his tank top. Sleeves appeared to cover his arms as it changed into a sweatshirt.  
  
"What is this place?" he asked as he went further into the room.  
  
Another alarm went off and the security system activated. The floor beneath him began to shift and flow like molten metal, which was impossible considering the ambient temperature of the room. It shifted into a pair of hands that grabbed his ankles, and two more reached up and encased his hands. He sighed as the skin of forearm opened and a small green disc appeared. It lit up and a green sphere surrounded his body, severing the ties that his bonds had to their source. The metal melting from his body, seeking to return the floor beneath his feet.  
  
When he looked up from the floor he saw something that chilled him more than the cold of the room ever could. Wires and tubes ran down from the ceiling high above to concentrate on a single entity, a woman suspended in midair. As he grew closer, he could see that the woman's lower arms and legs were nonexistent and the cords and tubes were growing from there. I say growing because it appeared that they were actually part of her. The metal and flesh merged together seamlessly (think of something like how Sara Pezzini looked like with the Witchblade, not the show, the comic book). The woman looked oddly familiar, like he had seen her somewhere before, but she didn't look old enough to be his mother.  
  
The disc was retraced back into his arm, and the shield dropped. The hole in his arm didn't heal right away, as a long blade replaced the space of the disc. He walked closer to her, readying to slice through the cables and tubes, when something stopped him, that same thing that brought him here. His hand began to reach out, wanting to touch this person who seemed so familiar. He stopped his hand though when he saw a thick cord running from under her long green hair and off to the side. Looking to the side he saw a computer that the cable plugged into.  
  
"Reliving happy memories," he guessed as he sat in the chair in front of the computer and began to search for any information on who this was.  
  
All of a sudden the lights turned off and a red glow filled the room. The elevator door, which he hadn't noticed to have closed, opened and Jerry, along with a security team, ran in. The guards were carry weapons he had seen before, they were carrying amped-up freeze guns.  
  
"Nate, how did you get down here?" Jerry asked sternly as he leveled his own weapon at his son.  
  
"Hey, the door opened by itself," he shrugged, not really worried with these people. "What is this place anyway?"  
  
"..." Jerry was silent, he couldn't answer such a question, not just because he didn't know how.  
  
"Well, who is she?" he jerked his head towards the unconscious woman, his hand slowly inching towards the gun strapped to his left leg.  
  
"I told you not to go near that door, didn't I, why did you?" Jerry asked. "This place is forbidden to everyone except those who have authorized access."  
  
Nate didn't really care at the moment as he unholstered his weapon and pointed it at the computer.  
  
"If you won't tell me, I'll just wake her up," he said calmly as he cocked the hammer.  
  
He never had a chance the pull the trigger as a beam of ice was shot from above him, freezing him. The guards came over and picked him up waiting for an order.  
  
"Prepare a mind-wipe, first we'll see what actually happened," Jerry said and the guards nodded.  
  
*****  
  
The next day was Monday, and Clover, Sam and Alex were making their way to chemistry. To be honest, they weren't looking forward to it, just another boring day of looking through a microscope. Sure it was fun for Sam, but it bored the hell out of the other two. Upon entering the room, they stopped in surprise. Sure his hair had changed from a green braid to a dirty blonde bowl cut, but it was definitely Nate. He was standing behind the teacher's desk, writing on the blackboard. They were the first ones there, so they decided talk to him.  
  
"Um, Nate, what are you doing here?" Clover asked.  
  
"Apparently it was the wrong teacher that was reported to be out sick, so here I am," he said with a slight laugh, the memory of the previous night was completely gone.  
  
"Well I for one don't really mind," Alex said.  
  
"Don't get your hopes up, its pretty much just a review worksheet," Nate shrugged as he went back to writing instructions on the board. "Just take that paper there and get to your seats."  
  
They each took a piece of paper and a small packet of news articles that he had pointed to and went to take their seats at the lab table in the front of the room. As soon as they sat down more students started coming in, taking their seats. Nate watched them all, looking for anyone that he might recognize from Alex's descriptions, and she was very descriptive.  
  
'That must be Mandy,' he thought when he saw her enter the room. 'How could such a pitiful looking person possibly be able to infuriate those girls so much?'  
  
He glad that everyone was looking at the board when they walked in, that way he wouldn't have to explain it. Each one took what was required and went to their seats, some of them started on it right away, while others just started talking. He sat down in the chair behind the main lab table and took a laptop out of his back. He knew all too well that class got very boring, having already had three classes today.  
  
'At least the teacher for this class was smart enough to put Clover and Mandy at opposite ends of the room,' he looked at the seating chart and the lack of screeching voices.  
  
Things were going smoothly till the noise level got to be almost unbearable. This was one thing he couldn't figure out about teachers, how did they keep calm while their students were being so annoying. He closed his laptop and looked up at the class, most of the people talking quieted down, but there were still those who refused to lower their voices.  
  
"You," he looked at the seating chart, "Mandy, keep your voice down, people are trying to work. If you haven't realized, this assignment is due by the end of class."  
  
"Can't I, like, get it to you by next class?" she asked in that annoying, squeaky voice.  
  
"No, you can't, now get back to work and keep your voice down."  
  
He was glad to see that she at least had respect for her teachers, even if it was an act. The three in the front were as well behaved as anyone could possibly be. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, Sam helping out the other two with the worksheet. With that taken care of he went back to his laptop, cataloging everything that had gone on today. The one who he was supposed to be keeping an eye on was not a student as he had been told, and wasn't even at the school, so he had decided to make the best of it.  
  
-----  
  
The class ended on a quiet note as the students all filed out through the door as the final bell rang. The three spies, though, had decided to hang back and talk to him.  
  
"So, who are you here to keep an eye on?" Sam asked.  
  
"Someone named David, but he's not in any of the classes I had today."  
  
"Wait, David, as in my David?" Clover asked, her voice taking on a bit of a whiny tone.  
  
"What does you mean by that?" he asked as he cocked his head a little. "How can he be yours?"  
  
"It's just a figure of speech," Sam said.  
  
"Oh, well, in any case, that would be the one I'm talking about."  
  
"But, why him?" Alex asked.  
  
"I can't discuss that now, and you three have stayed too long, you have to get going," he grabbed an eraser and started to wipe the board clean. "Someone is watching."  
  
Sam and Clover started for the door, but Alex hung back, seemingly to ask a question about the work. She told the others that she would meet them at the mall later on. They accepted this and left, talking about a new store at the mall that they had to check out.  
  
"What is it with you people and clothing?" Nate asked as he began writing notes on the board for the next day.  
  
"Well, we have to keep up with the times, you know?"  
  
"No, I don't know, having less clothing saves energy, because you don't have to think about what to where; I think it was Einstein that did that," he placed his hand on his chin in thought.  
  
"But, that's so boring."  
  
"Maybe, but it's efficient," he said then looked towards the door. "Did you have a question about the work?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, these articles are about putting a chemical plant on a river near a small town, what does that have to do with chemistry?"  
  
"It's supposed to teach you how to deal with real world situations, or at least that's my guess," he shrugged and motioned her to head for the door. "Come on, I gotta lock up."  
  
"Right."  
  
They left the room, the door locking when closed, he didn't even need to use his key. After that they stopped off at the office, where he dropped off said key. Upon reaching the main entrance he stepped forward and opened the door for her, like a gentleman, or a teacher. Once outside he unbuttoned the starched white shirt and untucked it, letting it fall loosely. Under it was his usual green tank top, which miraculously didn't show through the white at all. He also removed the blonde wig he had been wearing, letting his green hair down, no braid.  
  
"Feels good to be out of that," he said shaking his head a little, feeling his loose hair move from side to side. 'Where is he?'  
  
"I'll say, I had to where a wig once, my hair got so messed up it took me a week to get it back to normal," Alex agreed.  
  
"I meant out of the school."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Need a ride?" he asked stepping up to a red motorcycle (picture the one Kaneda rides in the movie Akira).  
  
*****  
  
"Ah, home sweet hole in the ground," Nate sighed as he once again stepped into an elevator.  
  
This one took him directly to the personnel part of the WOOHP complex. He stepped out and went to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, to give those three girls his e-mail. He looked around his small room, it was only about eleven feet by nine feet, with his bed built into the far wall, and a nightstand right next to it, next to that, built into a small alcove in the wall, was his computer.  
  
In the wall across from all that was his closet, containing three pairs of shifter pants, and three shifter tanks. On the floor below those were his shifter boots. Shifter clothing is made up of "smart threads", these threads are preprogrammed to respond to the wearer's thoughts, and with a simple tug at the appropriate spot, will change into any number of clothing.  
  
The wall that also had the door in it was littered with different kinds of weapons. An actual lightsaber, his Colt, two shotels (like the kind used by Gundam Sandrock Custom in Endless Waltz [Ha, bet you didn't think I would sneak those in]), a Shirasaya bamboo sword, a long piece of bamboo with a sword hidden within (I'll explain more later), and a large scythe. Also there was an SVD Dragunov, an FN P90, two Desert Eagles, and one of his favorites, a gun-sword (I've drawn a picture, I just wish you could see it). All this and other assorted guns and cutlery.  
  
'If only they knew,' he thought as he dropped down onto his bed.  
  
*****  
  
The next day Sam, Clover and Alex were all in the cafeteria, watching David. They couldn't understand why someone like Nate would be assigned to watch someone so innocent. It didn't make sense, but, then again, they had been fooled before.  
  
"It could be an act," Sam whispered.  
  
"Then he must be a pretty good actor to have been like that for almost a year," Clover responded.  
  
"Maybe we should ask Jerry what they're accusing him of."  
  
"Good idea Sammy," Alex chimed.  
  
=+= flashback =+=  
  
"Just remember Alex, he can't be trusted," Nate said as she stepped off the bike in front of the mall. "No matter how innocent he may seem."  
  
"What exactly did he do?" Alex asked handing him the helmet he let her borrow.  
  
"That's not information I can give you, but Jerry might. Don't tell Sam or Clover about this, alright?"  
  
"Alright?"  
  
With that he revved the engine and took off, easily breaking the speed limit. Alex stood there for a few seconds before going into the mall where Sam and Clover were waiting for her.  
  
=+= end flashback =+=  
  
"We'll ask him after school, unless he whoops us before then," Clover added, not really believing that the object of her desire could possibly be a criminal.  
  
-----  
  
"Like it or not girls, he's bad news," Nate said to himself from his position as caf monitor.  
  
He had been watching them watch his target. It hadn't occurred to him that David wasn't a student, seeing as how the information he was given wasn't really up to date. Students milled around all over the cafeteria, some of them not sitting at tables, but standing in small groups, talking. Once in a while a student he recognized from one of the classes he taught would wave and say hi.  
  
'I know waiting is part of the job, but this is ridiculous,' he thought as he leaned against the wall. "This is all so boring."  
  
TBC  
  
There, second chapter is done, sorry for it taking so damn long. To be honest I haven't really had much interest in this story. Totally Spies is an okay show, but not one that really peaks my interest. I hardly watch the show as it is. Well, that's all I have to say, none of that pissy bullshit about the next chapter. For some reason writing all that is just not appealing anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
Claimer: I do own any OCs in this fic  
  
Note: I'm going to try some HTML codes in here, so don't be scared if you see something you don't recognize.  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
***** - time/scene change  
  
*** - dream  
  
=+= flashback =+= - self-explanatory  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 3  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nate quickly and quietly made his way through the darkened maintenance hall. The three spies he was now assigned to protect had gotten into trouble, again. In the week since they had found out that their mutual crush David was evil, they had confronted him about it. They had been captured and were now being held captive. He sighed as he continued en route to their location, the screen in his forearm giving him updates as to where they were.  
  
'Three floors down, okay,' he thought as he studied the schematic of the building.  
  
He stopped and tapped the wall, it was hollow, meaning there was an airshaft behind him. The skin on his left forearm opened and a blade whipped out like a switchblade and he sliced himself a decent hole in it. Hoisting himself into the duct, he placed his palm against the inside of the shaft, and when he pulled it away, a small, round magnet was attached to it, connected to his hand via a half-inch thick cable. He dropped through the hole, lowering himself down three floors to a ventilation grate. Looking through it he saw the three girls, ialmost/i nude, shackled to a cart, being wheeled down the hall by a robot of some kind. He kicked the grate out of the way and slid through, the magnet above him released and slid back into his hand.  
  
"Nate, oh thank god!" Alex said as she struggled against her bonds.  
  
"Yo, how about getting' us outta here?" Clover said as she tried to crane her neck to look back at him.  
  
"You just don't listen, do you, I told you he was bad news, but did you care, noooooo," Nate said as he walked up and calmly punched through the robot's side, and ripped out the circuitry. "Just because he's cute doesn't mean he's nice, I'm sure Sam here knows that all to well."  
  
Sam was silent, this was exactly the same situation they had been in before.  
  
"I thought as much," he said as he broke the cuffs that held them in place, and reached into the bag slung over his shoulder to produce three new uniforms for them. "Here, you'll need these."  
  
"Thanks," Clover said.  
  
"Could you...uh...you know, turn around?" Alex asked.  
  
Nate, understanding their claims of modesty, turned around and looked down the hall. Small lenses switched inside his eyes, moving from normal vision to infrared, to X-ray, to night-vision. With that he looked down the hall to see what was at the end. It was a door, a very thick door from the looks of it.  
  
Once the spies were dressed they fell into step behind the assassin. It didn't take them long to reach the door, which slid open to a very well lighted room. Nate had to cover his eyes, which were still on night- vision, because it was so bright. The lenses over his eyes changed and he was able to see again. There seemed to be no end the odd things he saw in his line of work. The room seemed to be nothing but computers, with a David at each terminal. One computer, though, was raised above the others, with the real David sitting at it. He didn't even give the new arrivals one look, let alone a second glance, before saying:  
  
"What took you so long, just put the intruders over there."  
  
His remark was met with the sound of a hammer being cocked. That caught his attention as he stood and looked down at the revolver aimed at him. Nate's smile widened a little as he started to squeeze the trigger. Just as the hammer was about to strike, a sudden weight fell on his arm, disrupting his aim. Clover had jumped on his arm and spared David, but not his computer.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" Nate asked as he threw the blonde to the floor.  
  
They never got a chance to finish as all the David's in the room, roughly four dozen (48), stood up and turned to look at them. A glazed look covered all their faces, clueing the four agents into the truth that they were all androids. And all of them had their sights set on the WOOHP spies. The androids moved fast, faster than Nate had expected, and soon a he had two dozen holding onto just him, six on each arm, and six on each leg. The girls had six holding each of them, while two more held guns at each of them (count it up, that comes out to forty-eight).  
  
"See what you've done?" Nate yelled at Clover.  
  
"I can't help it, he's so cute," she gushed.  
  
'Well, might as well let him tell us his plan," Nate thought, not really wanting to talk to the blonde spy at the moment. "So, you made an army of yourself, why?"  
  
"'Why?' is the easy part," the original David said as he walked down the short staircase from his computer to the floor. "The more of me to work these computers, the more work I can do to control the entire global economy. Once I controlled that, the world would be at me feet."  
  
"Oh, well, that's actually more than I expected from you," Nate admitted as he looked around the room, causing David to do so as well.  
  
"Yes, no one would ever suspect someone like me," David continued, not really listening to Nate. He continued to rant about his plans and how people would be so surprised.  
  
'This is taking too long,' Nate thought as a pulse ran down his arm to his gun.  
  
The pulse radiated from his weapon and Davids holding him began to short- circuit. Their eyes dulled and their grip loosened, enough for him to throw them off. The clatter alerted David, who turned to see the androids holding the girls get blow away. He snapped his fingers and a robot arm descended from the ceiling, grabbing him and lifting him away from the floor.  
  
"No you don't," Nate fired and hit one of the hydraulic lines.  
  
The arm, with no hydraulic pressure to power it, fell limp, almost dropping David in the process. This did not hinder it on its way up into the ceiling, though, so Nate took aim again. He fired, this shot went passed David and struck the source of the arm, causing it to fall to the floor, crushing its occupant in the process. Nate looked down at the crumpled form of his target, then back at the girls, who had turned away.  
  
"Head back, I'll finish up here," he said and they all nodded heading for the door.  
  
"It's gonna be kinda weird not seeing him all the time," Clover said.  
  
"Yeah, but I guess it was for the best," Sam added.  
  
Alex stayed silent, looking back as Nate grabbed the hard drive out of a computer and proceeded to set explosives. He set one explosive under each terminal, in each corner of the room, and then one directly under David's head, just in case. Dusting his hands off, he walked back to the door and closed it, dropping a demolition chain as he went. A demolition chain is basically a long string of HE (high explosive), that, when detonated, goes off in series. At the door to the outside, which was inside the freezer in the food court of the old Beverly Hills Mall, he placed the detonator, and set it for two minutes.  
  
"Time to go," he said and the tiles below them opened as they were whooped away.  
  
*****  
  
Nate stretched out on his bed, yawning, and looked over at his wall of weapons. It had taken him the better half of eight years to collect them. Upon obtaining each one he had automatically scanned it and his brain instantly began processing moves and situations in which to use them. He didn't know why it did this. Though, it didn't surprise him, with all the memory wipes he'd gone through he was surprised he knew his own name. A knock at the door woke him from his dozing, and, out of pure reflex, he swatted a small green button on the side of his bed. The rack the weapons were on slid into the wall behind it, which promptly closed.  
  
"Come."  
  
The door opened and in walked a girl, a girl who looked a lot like him. She was roughly his height, with a slimmer built, but still showed off the fine lines of her muscles. The hair was the same color, except much longer, reaching almost to the floor, and was dripping with some thick, purplish gunk. She wore no clothes besides a skin-tight leotard that did much to show her figure. Her eyes were what caught his attention, though, so like his they were, but had more, how do you say, soul in them. He looked over at his reflection in the metal walls, his eyes were dull, the color not as vibrant as he remembered, and the usual spark they held was absent.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked rather hesitantly.  
  
She started forward, stepping into the light, the purple stuff he'd seen in her hair was revealed to cover her entire body, and stuck to the floor when she lifted her feet, leaving long skims of it linking her feet to the floor. She stopped when she was about a foot from the bed, where Nate had taking up a seated position, his legs hanging off the edge, and feet planted on the cold floor. Her slimy hands reached out and cupped his face, just beneath the lower jaw, and began to lift him to eye level.  
  
"Find me," was all she said in hoarse, rasping voice that he doubted was hers.  
  
"What do you mean?" he tried to move away, but the slime seemed to have turned to glue. "Where are you?"  
  
"Find me," she repeated, and began to press herself to him, being absorbed into him.  
  
***  
  
BEEP!BEEP!BEEP!  
  
Nate awoke with start, and smashed the alarm clock next to him to little bits. He sat up and placed his forehead in his hand with a sigh. It was the same dream he'd been having for about a week now. Always the same situation, always the same girl, and always the same stupid alarm clock waking him up before he could reach the end. Even though he had turned off the alarm clock, it always seemed to turn back on; he had even removed it and thrown it in the closet, and it still found its way back to his nightstand. Now it was destroyed.  
  
"Dammit, who is she?" he looked up at the ceiling, at the camera that was supposed to be hidden. "Well, I'm up, might as well get ready for a day of boredom."  
  
A beeping caught his attention before he could head to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The instant messenger screen had opened on his computer, and he had a message. Silently he cursed himself for forgetting to turn on the away message. It was from Alex, surprise surprise, and she was asking if he was doing anything. It took him a second to remember it was Saturday, so the three spies were probably thinking of something to do.  
  
He didn't respond, instead he turned on his away message and stepped into the bathroom. The shower turned on automatically and warmed itself to the appropriate temperature. He pulled off his sweat-soaked tank and threw it in the hamper, no matter how many times they told him that there was no problem with the heating system, it never failed to turn his room into an oven. The boxers soon followed, and he jumped into the steaming shower, a vent in the ceiling pulling out all the excess moisture. His knees gave out and he slumped against the wall, sitting on the floor with the water hitting him in the face.  
  
'This doesn't make any sense at all,' he thought to himself as his mouth filled with water. 'Why would she have any interest in someone like me, she four years younger than me. It's just a schoolgirl crush that's all.'  
  
He stopped thinking about her right then and there, never again would he get involved with anyone. He had been fooled by a pretty face before, like so many other agents had been, and, in the end, he killed her. There was no way in hell that he was going to go through that again. He had no problem with killing anyone that got in his way, even the innocent. Looking down at his hands, he saw the paint he had put on his knuckles begin to wear away. What looked like gold was pushing through his skin, and seemed to be attached to his bones, while more of it disappeared into his hand, gripping the tendons of his fingers. He stood up and, grabbing the soap and shampoo, began to wash up.  
  
*****  
  
"Ah, nothing like a peaceful day at the library," Sam said as she walked up the steps of the library.  
  
"Yeah, while you're doing that, Alex and I are gonna hit the mall," Clover said jerking her head over at the silent Alex.  
  
"Is she still bummed because he didn't return her message?" Sam whispered.  
  
"I guess," the blonde whispered back. "What she needs is shopping therapy."  
  
"Right, I'll meet you guys later," the redhead said and continued up the steps.  
  
She opened the doors and waved hello to the librarian, and the new guy who was working the shelves. She couldn't figure out why Clover and Alex avoided the library, it was a great place to spot hot guys, and even girls. Sam had never considered herself bisexual, but couldn't help but watch as some of the girls who worked at the library reached up to put a book away (this bit is just for all those perverts out there, especially Leviathan). She had contributed it to teenage curiosity, though she did sometimes catch herself staring a bit to long.  
  
So lost in thought she didn't notice the isle she'd gone down, and definitely didn't see the person she was about to run into. She didn't know what hit her until she was on the ground, massaging her aching posterior. A hand was offered to her, and she took it, following up the muscular arm to see Nate at the other end. She blushed noticeably, and let go once she was on her feet.  
  
"Well, fancy meeting you here," he said and went back to the shelf in front of him.  
  
"Yeah, what a coincidence," she giggled stupidly, looking at the books he had, all of them about dreams. "Trouble sleeping?"  
  
"Hm?" he looked at her, then at the books. "Oh, yeah, kinda."  
  
"Bad dreams?"  
  
"Not exactly bad, more like confusing," he said grabbing a book off the shelf and checking the back of it, then put it away. "What are you here for?"  
  
"It's Saturday, I always come to the library on Saturday, pretty just look at this and that," she looked at shelf to figure out what section this was. "Mind if I join you?"  
  
"Not at all, I can't stop you."  
  
"Hey, could you grab me that book up there?" she asked pointing to a book just out of her reach.  
  
He grabbed it and handed it to her, it was something about native and foreign dialects, you know, the way people talk (like the difference between how people from CT talk and how people from Texas talk). She walked out of the isle and into the sitting area, which was full of armchairs, and a few tables with hard, wooden chairs. Nate followed, and placed the two books he had on the small coffee table in front of one of the armchairs. Sam took the seat across from him and opened her book.  
  
"I thought they didn't let you out without a chaperone," Sam said.  
  
"Look straight behind you," he said as he scanned the book. "Sarah's looking for something to read."  
  
"Must be hard to be under constant surveillance."  
  
"You are too, it's just not as noticeable," he then pointed to the back of his neck, "A microchip planted at the base of your cerebellum sends out a signal to the WOOHP satellite, so they know where you are at all times."  
  
"Oh."  
  
*****  
  
"Ah, girls, good of you to come," Jerry said a few days later as the four spies walked through the door.  
  
Nate was with them, and his demeanor quickly changed from laughing at something Alex had just done, to be straight faced. The three girls waved lightly and were stifling back slight fits of laughter. What had Alex just done, an almost dead-on impression of Jerry. They weren't going to let the head of WOOHP know what had just transpired, so they tried to appear as collected as Nate did.  
  
"What are we here for Jerry, a mission?" Clover asked.  
  
"No, you're here for training," he said nonchalantly.  
  
"Training, but didn't we do that already?" Sam asked looking confused.  
  
"Yes, basic training, now for something more advanced. This is going to teach you to anticipate any situation."  
  
"Um, Jerry, I think we've already gone through every situation that's possible," Alex said.  
  
"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet," Nate said with a small smile. "Who's their instructor?"  
  
"Thomas will be instructing them, so I'll have to get another team to take over their missions."  
  
"Thomas, eh, you mean the gay guy?" Nate asked cocking his head to the side a bit.  
  
"I do wish you wouldn't call him that."  
  
"What? Just making sure these three know what they're getting into," he looped his arms around the three girls' shoulder, sticking his head between two of them.  
  
Jerry didn't comment to that, he just remained silent, not really wanting to get into another argument. He figured it was better they find out now, than to realize it later. Thomas was very professional at work, never letting his sexual preference get in the way of his work. He's not exactly a gay stereotype, what with the lisp and the obsession with fashion, though he does discuss it with the other female agents. Actually he could pass for straight if you weren't in the know.  
  
"And what do I do while they're training? It's so damn boring here," Nate crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Well, I guess that's up to you, now isn't it?" his father said crossing him arms. "Just show these three where they need to go, and don't disturb them."  
  
They left without another word, the girls finding it better not to talk to him after something like that. He led them down a hallway, and then took a right, another right, a left, a right, down a flight of stairs, and then through the door at the end of that hall. Inside was a plain room, the walls black, with yellow lines to show where the metal tiles ended and began (like a holodeck from Star Trek). Inside was a young man of about twenty-five, holding a clipboard. Light brown hair was cut short, and spiked up, while blue eyes flicked towards the door, concentrating on the first one to enter.  
  
"Ah, Nate, what brings you here?" he asked while staring at him intently.  
  
"Just delivering your new students," he said and opened the door wide enough for the three girls.  
  
"Hello girls, now, which one of you is which?"  
  
"I'm Sam, and this is Clover and Alex," the redhead said pointing to herself then the others.  
  
As natural as the Gulf Stream making its way up the East Coast, Clover looked up and down the instructor's body. She couldn't understand how anyone who was so good-looking could be gay. It just didn't seem possible to her that he wasn't available. But, at the same time, she couldn't help but think what it would take to get him to change his mind.  
  
"Well, I'll be going, train hard," Nate said as he started for the door.  
  
"We will," Alex said with a wink.  
  
"Oh, don't go, I could use your help," Thomas said.  
  
"Not a chance," was all the assassin said before closing the door behind him.  
  
*****  
  
Hours passed slowly as Nate sat in his room, taking apart his Colt, cleaning it, and putting it back together. All in all it took him an hour and a half, simply because he was obsessed with having it shine like the day he got it. If he didn't want it so clean it would have only taken him twenty minutes. Looking over at his nightstand, he saw that a new clock had been installed. Silently he cursed whoever was doing this to him, as if they didn't want him finishing the dream. He just shrugged and picked up the holster for his gun and looped it around his waist, then around his left leg. A quick tug at his color and the trench coat, this time with sleeves, grew from his tank top, which itself had begun to change. In less than a minute he was in his trench coat, underneath was a bodysuit made of something like leather, but, unlike leather, this material breathed.  
  
He walked over to the rack and picked up his shotels, the blades, starting at the top, dismantled themselves till nothing was left but the handles. Those he hooked to two clips at his waist, and then reached for his scythe, the blade, and half the handle retracting just as the shotels did. He slipped that into a small loop on the back of the coat. He grabbed a very odd-looking katana next (if you're a sword fanatic, like me, then you'll know exactly what the Samurai 3000 Katana [© United Cutlery] is, if you don't know, look it up), and slipped the scabbard of it through his belt. And last, but certainly not least, he picked up the revolver where he had left it on his bed and holstered it through a slit in one of the flaps.  
  
Finally he stepped through door and proceeded down the hall to the training room, another holodeck. He already had the scenario picked out, and was planning on venting a little of this frustration. It didn't take him long to reach the same level the others were on, but the room he wanted was a few doors down from them. Upon entering the room he looked over at the computer and selected the scenario.  
  
"Alright then," he placed his hands on the shotels, "computer, begin."  
  
The walls of the room shimmered and altered to give him the view of a city destroyed by some unknown cataclysm. Buildings were crumbling, the streets were cracked and showed signs of a great upheaval. Dead bodies littered the ground, and the sound of crying could be heard. He hadn't run this program before, so he decided to do the agent thing and check it out. Taking his hands off his shotels he started running down the street, and around the corner.  
  
Two people lay in the middle of the street, clinging to each other, as if trying to shield themselves from whatever killed them. There, on the ground between them, was a little girl who couldn't have been more than five. She was the one crying, desperately trying to get her parents to wake up. An explosion rang out above her and a large slab of the building next to her began to fall. Even though it was a hologram, Nate ran forward as fast as he could and grabbed the girl, never even stopping as he got out from under the shadow of the impending death. The two bodies were crushing flat with the sickening sounds of crunching bones and splattering innards.  
  
He looked down at the little girl who was now crying into his shoulder. It amazed him at just how real this hologram was, normally it was almost impossible to get actual human emotions into a hologram. He'd heard enough raw emotion in his life to be able to tell the difference, but this was really starting to irk him. The look on her face, the slightest changes in the pitch of her voice, even the body language, it was all there.  
  
'They could not have fabricated this, this is real,' he thought as he gently tried to console the girl. 'What is this feeling, I've never felt this way towards a hologram.'  
  
"Nate."  
  
He whipped around, and there was the girl again, standing atop the slab of building that just fell. She was wearing something similar to him, except without the weapons. Also her extremely long hair was braided, ending in a heavy, metal ring. The light in her eyes that he had seen was dulled slightly, but it was still there, even though it was a hologram.  
  
"Who are you, what do you want?" he asked placing the little hologram on the ground.  
  
"I don't have long, I've set up a block on the audio and visual surveillance equipment in this room, but they'll find a way around it soon. Listen, you must get out of here, away from WOOHP," she said in an urgent voice.  
  
"Last time I saw you, you told me to find you."  
  
"Yes, they've been watching your dreams, that's why you keep getting woken up before it can end. They continue to replace your alarm clock so you won't finish it."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Here, this will help you hide from them," she knelt down and picked up a small piece of stone, no larger than a small bearing; the stone melted away to reveal a small microchip. "You must replace the transponder in your neck with this..."  
  
"But what about you, you still haven't told me who you are," he interrupted running over to her.  
  
"Please, do as I've said, and all will be made clear," she placed the chip in his hands and slowly began to be absorbed into the rock. "You'll know what to do soon enough, but you must first get away from here, far away. Now finish your mission."  
  
And then she was gone, melding into the rock. He quickly slipped the chip into his pocket and went back to the little girl, who had stopped her crying. Picking her up he grabbed a stray piece of cloth and wrapped it around her. Holding her in the crook of his arm he placed his hand on a knife that was ever present in its sheath at his hip.  
  
"What happened here?" he asked her.  
  
"(Sniff)...T-they came (sniff) s-so fast..." she said between sobs.  
  
"Who, who came?"  
  
"Those," she pointed over his shoulder.  
  
Turning he saw a very Terminator-like robot, it was leveling a very large gun at him. Like lightening he snapped around and threw the knife he was holding, severing its head from its body. He then unholstered his gun, and, with five quick shots, he blew off the arms, then the legs, then the upper torso from the lower. With the last bullet he blew apart the head, then reloaded.  
  
"Great, how many?"  
  
"Lots."  
  
'Let's see, objectives of this program, find soul (is it soul or sole, cuz I don't know) survivor, done, get to main computer and destroy it, get out of city,' he checked the program in his head and saw what he had to do, it seemed simple enough. "Okay, let's get going."  
  
He placed her on the ground and, while holding her hand, started walking. In doing this he could easily have use of both his hands in an instant, without having to drop her. It didn't say that he had to make it through the mission with the survivor, but he felt that he would get better marks if he did.  
  
*****  
  
Some hours later the three spies practically fell out of the door in their rush to get out. All three were tired, sweaty, and their appearances were completely disheveled. Their hair was a mess, their make-up hadn't faired much better, and the nail polish (which I count as separate from make-up, why, I don't know) was chipped and crac...  
  
"OH NO, I BROKE A NAIL!!!!!!!!" Clover screamed at the top of her lungs, holding the offending nail out in front of her.  
  
...Ahem, as I was saying, their nail polish was chipped and cracked, and their hands were covered in blisters.  
  
"Clover, settle down, its not the end of the world," Alex said as she placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder.  
  
"For me it is, I just got a manicure yesterday, there's two hundred dollars down the toilet," she continued to cry.  
  
"Quit being a baby, as if a broken nail is the worst of your problems," Sam said as a bit of a halfhearted joke, "you definitely don't want to see your hair right now."  
  
"WHAT, WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY HAIR?" she wailed as she crawled over to the wall panel and looked at her reflection. The scream that ripped from her throat was load enough to cause the other two to cover their ears.  
  
I won't say what her hair looked like, so just imagine your worst hair day ever, and multiply it by about ten (give or take). Think about it, with all the hair spray she uses, anything that goes wrong is definitely going to stick. It was inevitable that it would happen, considering what they'd just gone through. But her sour mood didn't last long.  
  
"Oh well, it could look as bad as yours," she pointed at them.  
  
"Maybe we should try to find those WOOHP stylists," Alex said looking at a map on the wall to see if she could find the salon. "I can't make heads or tails of this thing."  
  
"Betcha Thomas knows, we should ask him," Sam suggested while also studying the map.  
  
All of a sudden the hall they were in shook, as well as most of the rest of WOOHP HQ. The door down the hall opened and Nate stepped out, looking about as worn out as they did, and he kept mumbling something. One of his sleeves was missing, and what appeared to be a very large, metal arm that was rapidly shrinking and being covered by skin. When it was completely gone, in his hand was the Colt, which he holstered. He turned and started walking down the hall, away from them, not even taking notice of the three girls.  
  
"Woah, what's with him?" Clover asked placing her hands on her hips in an irritated posture.  
  
"I don't know, and I'll bet he isn't in the mood to talk," Sam said.  
  
"Do you think it has to do with the program he was running?" Alex watched him walking away, holding herself back from following.  
  
"Maybe, we'll have to ask him next time we see him."  
  
*****  
  
"She was a hologram, so why do I feel this away about her dying?" Nate asked himself that night, as he used one of the scalpel-like blades in his fingers to cut open the back of his neck, over the small bump that was his position transponder.  
  
He pulled the chip out and, before the cut could close, placed the new chip in. The incision healed and he opened a small chamber in his arm, placing the transponder inside. That way he could ditch it when he left. Whoever that girl was, he felt that he could trust her, unlike most of the staff at WOOHP. She didn't have the same commanding tone to her voice, she was asking him to do these things, not telling.  
  
"She said all would become clear," he said as he lay down for the night. "Well, here goes."  
  
He turned off the light and fell asleep, slipping into the realm of dreams and fantasy.  
  
centerTo Be Continued/center  
  
There, this one's a little longer than the others, probably gonna be one of the longest. Even though it was so long, I still managed to leave a cliffhangar, hehe. Who is the girl, and why does Nate feel so strange about a hologram? The answer to the latter question will be answered with a flashback next chapter, while the former will be answered in a few chapters. I hope to get a few more reviews than last time, I thank Leviathan and Chaos for their reviews, but I need more. I, like most authors, am a review whore, the only reason I write is to get reviews, to be recognized for the truly great author I am. Oh well, all you people want is sex, violence, and more sex...perverts. Well, this is me telling you all that I'm out, later. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
Claimer: Any and all OCs in this story are mine, please ask before using them  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
***** - time/scene change  
  
*** - dream  
  
=+= - flashback  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 4  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
'How could I fail?' Nate thought as he lay in his bed the next day. The memory of the holodeck mission was still on his mind (it had happened earlier that day after all), and kept replaying. 'I'm not supposed to fail.'  
  
A knock to his door and he sat bolt upright, it was almost four in the AM, the time when most people are asleep and resting up for the day of school ahead. He slid off the bed and walked to the door, sliding it open a crack to see who was there. It was Sarah.  
  
"What?" he asked quietly, but it still held a twinge of irritation.  
  
"I saw what happened on the holodeck," she said.  
  
"There was no other way, I had to use it," he said hoping that she was referring to his use of his angel arm.  
  
"Not that, I mean I saw the girl," she whispered to him softly, too softly for it to be heard by any security measures.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he began to close the door, only to stop when she slid her foot in it.  
  
"You know exactly who I'm talking about, the one who keeps visiting your dreams," that got his attention. "All I want to know is what she said to you."  
  
"That's none of your business, now take your foot of my door or I will break it in half," he applied pressure to the door, squeezing her foot until she pulled it out.  
  
The door closed without a sound, though he wished it would make any kind of sound. Everything in this place was so clean, so quiet; it was starting to annoy him. This whole organization was beginning to annoy him. The constant monitoring, the loss of what most people had called "the best years of his life", Jerry's overprotectiveness of the secret that was his son, and, most of all, he was now charged with babysitting the three spies on most, if not all their future missions.  
  
He tapped into the security system and saw that the hall outside was clear, so he decided to take a little walk. The door slid opened and he stepped out, closing and sealing it behind him, no one was going in. His bare feet made little to no sound on the cold metal floor and he continued his trek though the bowel of this place called WOOHP. One room he stopped in was designed for the scientists who were never, ever allowed to leave the underground. It was somewhat of a park, with trees and bushes and grass and a small brook that ran from one end to the other and three-dimensional buildings around it, giving it depth. The room was about 8000 square feet, a 100 foot by 80 foot rectangle. The ceiling above mimicked the sky outside, and right now there was a clear, starry night.  
  
It didn't seem right that in LA there would be such stars visible, what with all the light pollution. But then he remembered that this sky wasn't real, it was just a very well done hologram. As he walked into the room, he noticed the door took a little too long to shut, and when he turned around there was nothing there. Shrugging he turned back to look around a little, it had been a while since he was there last. The trees were taller, some of the bushes were bushier, and some of the stones in the creek bed had shifted. He reached a small hill and, letting it all go, he plopped down on the soft grass, stretching his limbs as far as they would go.  
  
"I don't know why I don't come here more often," he said to what he thought would be himself.  
  
"This is one of my favorite places to come and relax," a female voice, different from Sarah's.  
  
He craned his neck a little to see a fairly short woman standing on the crest of the hill. She stood roughly 4'10", and wore a plain, white nightgown, and was holding a teddy bear. Her auburn hair shown slightly in the fake moonlight, giving it a bit of a blue hue. Her eyes were the color of fire opal, and glinted just the same as the precious stone. A small smile sat on her lips as a slight breeze blew her hair about. This was Natalie Rivage, age 34, head of WOOHP R&D, leader of the project that turning him into what he was, and never one to act her age.  
  
"Dr. Rivage, what are you doing here?" Nate ask as he rolled onto his stomach.  
  
"You're not the only one who likes to take walks in wee hours of the morning," she smiled a little wider and sat down next to him, cradling the bear. "We're not in the lab, Nate, you can call me Natalie."  
  
"Okay," he said somewhat hesitantly, it was going to feel very odd calling his physician by her first name. "What's with the bear?"  
  
"You mean Cuddles?" she chuckled lightly, and squeezed the bear. "I've had him since I was five, helped me to scare away the monsters in my closet."  
  
"What monsters?" He just gave her a confused look, he'd had never been afraid of monsters in his closet, and no one had ever told him about them either. Don't get me wrong, I was terrified till I was like ten years old, when I watched a Steven King Movie Marathon, totally desensitized me.  
  
"Oh, well, um, sometimes when children are young they are afraid of the unknown, like the dark. And the darkest spot of every room is usually the closet, or under the bed, so that's where these imaginary monsters come from," she explained. "So having something to hold onto, something familiar helps them to cope with their fears. Understand?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
*****  
  
Wednesday, Nate laid on the roof of a tall, NYC office building, his SVD Dragunov held tightly to his shoulder, the scope hovering just in front of his eye. He was now in sniper mode, his smart-thread clothes had taken the form of a normal trench coat, like those used in trench warfare. He had also donned a large hat that effectively kept the glare out of his eyes. These clothes had an extra feature about them, they blended perfectly with whatever surface he was near, Chameleon Technology it was called. His target was a very powerful drug lord, who was going to be making his way from a limousine, and into a bank. He only had a three-second window to strike, and he wasn't going to fail.  
  
"Come on you little bitch," he whispered calmly as the limo drove up, with the sunroof open.  
  
He lined up the shot, keeping his aim slightly to the right, as the gun tended to pull to the left when fired. The door opened, he stepped out, and Nate pulled the trigger, in a little less than two seconds the man went from having a fairly good head on his shoulders, to having no head on his shoulders.  
  
"That'll teach 'em to not carry bulletproof umbrellas," he joked as he stood up and made his way back to his jet.  
  
It has come to my attention that I never told you what his jet looks like. Well, if you've ever seen the movie Stargate, which I hope you have, it looks like those glider things the enemy flew. It was a small, personal craft that he had had painted black and green, and carried a few little surprises for anyone who wanted a dogfight. He stepped up to it and got into the cockpit, feeling it link to his cybernetics. With one thought the jet became invisible, and took off, on its way cross-country. While on his way, he thought of the previous day's venture into the holodeck.  
  
=+=  
  
"So, when did they get here?" Nate asked the little girl who was looking around nervously.  
  
"Not long ago, only a few days."  
  
Nate was stunned, a force like that must number in the thousands to take down a city this size. He knew it was large because they had been walking for a while and not reached any sort of end. The streets twisted and turned, never going in a straight line for more than a hundred meters. It looked as if some great power had purposely warped the city, and still was from the looks of it. So far there was no sign of any more of those robots, and that was putting Nate on edge. He had long since holstered his revolver, and was instead opting to use his other weapons.  
  
"Is there anyone else left?"  
  
"No," she sniffed back tears, tears that were too real for Nate's liking.  
  
"Well, if you like, I'll take care of you," he said in a comforting tone.  
  
"Stop where you are," a mechanical voice said behind them.  
  
Nate turned and unholstered his gun, taking quick aim and firing at the robot. But when that one hit the ground, it seemed to be a signal for the seemingly hundreds more that lay in wait. The fronts of buildings exploded outward as they encircled the two humans. Large machine guns and rocket launchers were aimed at them. A small smile formed on his lips when they fired. Green discs appeared on his palms, and began to glow as he held them up. A green dome surrounded himself and the girl, effectively shielding them from the hellfire outside.  
  
=+=  
  
His attention was brought from his thoughts to a communication from WOOHP HQ. Apparently he had to get to Central Africa as fast as he could. Sam, Clover, and Alex had called in that they were in trouble, and, as their guardian, he had to go and help. He sighed irritably, and redirected his jet back the other way, and pushed the throttle. This always, always happened to him when he was deep in thought, someone just had to interrupt him.  
  
*****  
  
It didn't take long to get there at full speed, and he still had the stealth mode engaged, so no one saw him land. He set down in a secluded spot of the Congo, and started through the forest, well, more like through the trees. A grappling hook launched from his wrist, and snagged a branch. He made his way quickly and quietly through the jungle, glad that he had his hair pulled into the braid, otherwise the humidity would have been wreaking havoc on it.  
  
"Well, there it is," he said from a branch as his eyes zoomed in on the secret missile complex.  
  
The Republic of Congo had been secretly backwards engineering nuclear missiles that they had bought from a foreign power, then making their own. This facility had been built out of an old diamond mine, and wasn't in the least bit conspicuous. That is until a radical faction takes it over and starts making demands. WOOHP had been called in, but they were captured, he could see them through one of the windows.  
  
"How many times have I told Jerry not to send them on missions like this?" Nate asked himself as he climbed down the tree to a large branch, and then crossed over to another, closer tree from there. "Let Greg's team handle something like this, they have more experience. But, naturally, he doesn't listen."  
  
*****  
  
"Remind me how we got into this Clover," Sam said as she tried to melt the titanium shackles with her fingertip welding torch (the suits disperse heat, so there's no chance of them getting burned). "Man, why isn't this working."  
  
"I thought you of all people would know that titanium is, like, really hard to weld (this is true, they actually use some kind of highly concentrated electron beam to weld titanium)," Clover said surprising the other two with such knowledge. "What, I was flipping through the channels and finally ended up on Discovery, or something like that."  
  
The others sighed as Sam retracted the torch and settled in for a long wait. Their ankles had been shackled together, their wrists as well, then a length of chain connect the two behind their backs, effectively hog-tying them, and leaving them helpless. It all happened because Clover was still fretting about her broken nail from the previous day. Unfortunately for them, a guard heard her griping and fired a smoke grenade at them, the smoke put them to sleep. When they woke up they were shackled and locked away.  
  
"This bites," Alex said as she lightly hit her head on the floor.  
  
The door opened, then closed, but no one came in, and it didn't seem like the guards outside noticed at all. In fact, they looked asleep from where the girls were looking up from. There was a wavy motion in the air, like when you see gas in the air, and a hat was lifted, revealing Nate. The hat changed to a dark brown, as well as the trench coat he wore. He glared down at them, but not a really harsh glare, just a lightly annoyed one.  
  
"In trouble again I see," he said with a slight smile, but still the glare as he unsheathed his special katana.  
  
In a motion too fast to be seen, he struck, hitting all the key points on the shackles. Then, as if he hadn't done anything at all, he sheathed the sword and stepped towards the door. The sound of metal hitting the floor filled the room as the shackles and chains simply fell apart, clean cut.  
  
"What about the guards?" Sam asked as he was about to open the door.  
  
"What guards?" he replied as the door swung open and there were two bodies lying on the floor outside.  
  
They left through the door and proceeded down the hall towards the command center. Nate produced a small disk from inside his coat and slid it into the crack in the door. After getting behind a corner they heard a small explosion. Sam looked around the corner at the titanium door that had been blown open. She was getting a little suspicious of him now, why would he have demolition materials on hand all the time, the three of them never got that.  
  
"Get ready," he whispered as he produced an M203 grenade launcher from within his coat.  
  
Without looking he aimed it around the corner and launched a smoke grenade. It ricocheted perfected off the wall and into the door, discharging after the preset time. Thick smoke billowed out from the projectile, filling the room and seeping into the hallway. He handed them each pair of goggles and small air filters, which looked to be nothing more than mouthpieces from a SCUBA tank. After fitting the M203 back beneath his coat, he pulled out a small, break barrel shotgun.  
  
"On three," he said as he opened the gun and popped in two shells. "Three."  
  
They rounded the corner and entered the thick smoke. Once in the room they could see that several of terrorists on the floor, asleep. Some were still sitting in their chairs, their heads on the consoles. One of them was still on his feet, technically. He was crouched beneath the smoke and leveled an AK47 at them. The shots he fired, though, were deflected by some unseen force. It seemed that they had hit a wall, and shot out in all different directions. Nate raised the shotgun and fired one shot the man's abdomen, the second to his head. He blew the smoke from the barrels and slid it back into the coat.  
  
"Well, that was simple enough," he smiled as the ventilation fan above began to suck out the smoke. "How did you three get into so much trouble?"  
  
"It was like they knew we were coming," Sam said as she began to disarm the terrorists, just in case they came to.  
  
"Yeah, we never had a chance," Clover took the gun from the goon at her feet and thew it out the door.  
  
"We need to talk to Jerry about getting some better gadgets for stealth," Alex said as she looked at the ripple of color that an down Nate's coat. "Like what you have."  
  
"Given that it is a fashion nightmare," Clover noticed the ripple too, "I could deal with a little invisibility."  
  
"Fashion nightmare?" Nate asked as he pulled the AK47 from the dead man's hands. "This coat is one of the most advanced pieces of technology in the world, and all you care about what it looks like?"  
  
"Well, yeah, who wants to walk around looking like they just stepped out of the trenches of world war two?" Sam chimed in, getting a slightly confused look from Clover and Alex.  
  
Nate sighed as he stowed the gun into one of the many spaces inside the coat. He couldn't understand how three perfectly level headed people...well...one perfectly level headed, the other two had a slight grade to them, could possible be so ignorant of what was given to them. They had the life that many people could only dream of, and being able to juggle that career with their normal lives was even more amazing. It was like they took saving this world, and possibly others in the long run, from total ruin, completely for granted. And here he was, a killer, feeling guilty for letting a hologram die, and acting on that guilt.  
  
'Fools, they're all fools,' he thought as he turned and headed for the door. "The base's staff is tied up in the basement, I suggest you go and get them."  
  
"And where are you going?" Clover inquired with a slight twinge of annoyance that he would act all high and mighty.  
  
"Home," he said passively as he donned the large hat and left.  
  
The three ran to the door to watching him, but all they saw was a ripple in the air and he was gone just as quickly as he had come. The sound of doors opening and closing was the only thing that tipped them off to that fact that he was still around.  
  
*****  
  
Nate slipped back into his reverie of what had happened on the holodeck.  
  
=+=  
  
The hail of bullets and rockets seemed unrelenting as Nate held them off his shield. But this was getting them no where, and it was boring. He had come to this place to work off his frustration, not to sit idly by as these robots ran out their almost tireless amounts of ammunition. Some of them had even taken up pounding on the green energy, but they only succeeded in getting blown apart by friendly fire. Finally he just didn't care anymore.  
  
The shield began to expand, the area it covered grew larger, pushing back the hordes of robots. The energy cracked and sizzled as long bolts of lightening flashed out from it, passing from one bot to the next (like that lightening that came out of the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade). In an orgy of explosions, the shocked automatons were reduced to a pile of scrap metal. When the smoke dissipated there was no more shield, just Nate and the girl. The green discs had disappeared from his palms, and not even slightest blemish covered the area where they just were either. His hand slowly reached up and he tugged at the coat he wore, it disappeared into suit beneath it.  
  
"Just stay here, I'll handle them," Nate told the girl, who he ushered into a small crevice between two large chunks of asphalt, it wasn't much but it would keep her safe.  
  
He placed his hand on the katana at his waist, feeling the grip, and then depressing the button that allowed the blade to be drawn from the saya (place of peace/rest). But the sword he slammed into the ground, for that was not the weapon he planned to use. He pulled the scabbard from where it was attached and held it in front of him, all 30 inches of it. Metal pieces from the bots that had fallen began to lift from the ground, changing their shape, and attaching to the opening of the sheath, and filling the expanse with it, like a tang.  
  
When he was done, he now held a sword called an odachi (great sword in Japanese), and just the blade was pushing seven feet in length. A large and ornate guard had formed at the base, in the form of a large, coiled dragon, the blade shooting from its mouth. The robots didn't seem to care as they continued to fire upon him. Their bullets, numerous as they may be, never hit the mark, as he was too fast for them, and, grabbing the katana he had driven into the ground, leapt into the air. He came down in the mass of machines and simply started ripping them apart.  
  
The odachi was too long for stabbing, but he could easily take out at least ten of them with one stroke. The katana he used for those that got too close. He was relieved that they didn't seem interested in the girl, and had left her wholly unharmed. But that didn't mean she was out of danger, as the machines had to climb over her crevice to get to their quarry. It was easy to use the swords in unison, pretending that he was simply using a large daisho (Japanese set of two swords: a katana and wakizashi, wakizashi and tanto, or katana and tanto).  
  
'This isn't right, it's too easy,' he thought as he cut down another legion, while stabbing the katana through another android's head.  
  
It was about that time he noticed that there were fewer machines than before, but it was impossible for him to have destroyed so many so quickly. He turned around saw that the machines were retreating, something else he found out of place. Robots weren't programmed to retreat, even if the situation dictated it was the right move to make. Explosions from above tore his eyes away from his enemy. The buildings around him were beginning to fall. Shards of glass and other debris rained from the sky like a deadly hail. The blade for his odachi fell off and he sheathed the katana, placing back at his waist.  
  
The little girl screamed from her hiding place as the glass and small stones fell on her. This time Nate wasn't fast enough to react as he ran towards the crevice, hoping to get there in time. He thrust his hand forward, trying to get above her to cast the shield, but it was too little too late. The shield was cast, but the girl was not under it. Rocks fell on and into the crevice, and Nate heard the sounds he'd heard before. But he didn't actually see her die, debris fell all around him as the buildings collapsed, blocking his view. He did hear her scream one last time.  
  
"No," he fell to his knees as the green disc in his arm began to cloud over with red; soon there was no green left, only red, and the shield followed suit. His eyes, which had been closed, open to reveal a red iris, instead of the green that had originally been there. Blood fell from his eyes as he stood, "NO!"  
  
The rocks above him exploded outward as the shield expanded again, pushing large pieces of debris as it leveled out the area around him, like a bulldozer. The back of his suit exploded outward as large wings began to expand, making him look somewhat like an angel. The wings were somewhat like the wings of a soaring bird, except that they appeared to be made of conduits and cable, and the feathers were angular pieces of metal. He walked towards the open hole that had only been mere feet outside the shield's original radius. Reaching down, he grasped the rock lodged within it and pulled it out, seeing the crushed form of the little girl. He stooped down and lifted her from the hole and held her; he had failed.  
  
He could feel through the cloth that her ribcage had caved in, the plates of her skull had shifted, and her arms, legs, and spine had all been broken. She had been killed instantly, and he was thankful for that at least. But there was something wrong, something terribly wrong, when holograms died, there was usually no blood, yet his arms were stained with it, it dripped from the girl's body to the ground, forming a puddle. In other words, holograms don't bleed because they're not real; this girl was either not a hologram, or a very, very advanced one.  
  
"Bastards," he whispered as he placed her back on the ground.  
  
He grabbed his revolver and felt an intense amount of power flow into his arm. The sleeve tore open from the cuff to the shoulder as his arm began to grow larger and larger. It began to look more like a cross between a machine and some unidentifiable gray matter. His wings opened wide and his body began to rise from the ground, higher and higher into the sky, above the city. The arm continued to grow, lengthening as it did so; the revolver was completely gone now, absorbed into the bio-mechanical mass that was the Angel Arm (if you don't know what an Angel Arm looks like, watch the anime Trigun, or look it up on the internet).  
  
The gun fired, and, even though he knew full well that the beam was also a hologram, traveled the distance between himself and the ground in little more than a second. It slammed into the road, and stopped there, spreading out along the ground, destroying everything in its path until there was nothing left, just a huge, smoking circle, no crater. The red disappeared from his eyes, the red disc on his arm vanished, and the Angel Arm began to shrink. When he touched down, the wings were gone, and the massive gun had shrunk to half of full size. The trench coat reappeared as he approached the door, minus a sleeve of course. As the door opened, the annihilated cityscape behind him shimmered and vanished, a large crack in the floor panels was the only indication of what had gone down.  
  
=+=  
  
His eyes opened as he approached Beverly Hills, and the building that housed the front operation for WOOHP. It was a company that supplied high tech surveillance and security equipment to major businesses. He spotted the helipad on the roof, and maneuvered to touch down on it. Once he had landed and stepped out of the jet, he felt the helipad lurch and begin to descend down through the building. Another slid into place above him, covering the hole in the top of the building, and also putting him in complete darkness for a second before lights flickered on.  
  
As the elevator descended, the walls were replaced by windows that displayed the different levels of the building. These were actually see- through mirrors; he could see through from his side, but the other side was a mirror, hiding the circular shaft. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the world around him, wanting to just fade away and leave everything behind him. Even though he knew they couldn't see him, he knew they knew he was there, they always did.  
  
"This used to be fun," he said to himself, "but since I met those girls, it's all gotten to be just...boring."  
  
'Is that right?' a voice inside him asked, but it wasn't his voice, it sounded more like a female voice. 'This is boring to you?'  
  
"Yes."  
  
'But it's your job, is it not?'  
  
"I know it's my job, that doesn't mean I have to like it."  
  
'What about the girls, what about Alex?'  
  
"What about her?"  
  
'You care for her, don't you?'  
  
He was silent when it asked him that, how do you answer something like that.  
  
*****  
  
"What's up his ass anyway?" Clover asked as they freed the trapped staff.  
  
"Why is that always your assumption, Clover, maybe he just has a lot on his mind," Sam said coming to Nate's defense.  
  
"And what makes you think that?" the blond retorted.  
  
"I saw him at the library the other day."  
  
"Really, why didn't you tell me?" Alex asked looking hopeful. "What did you talk about?"  
  
"I can't say, I promised it would be just between him and me," the redhead said with a slight blush as she untied a female officer.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Come on Sammy, you can tell us," Clover said as she gently pushed Sam's shoulder, causing her hand to slip and brush the officer's breast.  
  
She quickly pulled it back and glared at Clover, "I can't, I promised."  
  
"Alright, alright, what's a matter Sam, got sand in your vagina (I'm sorry, I had to do it)?"  
  
"Girls, if you need to get going, we can finish up here," one of the officers who they'd already untied said.  
  
"Yeah, we should be getting back, it's getting late," Sam said looking at her watch.  
  
*****  
  
Days passed without incident since the Congo, nothing happened between the spies and their guardian, they hardly even saw each other. They had since memorized the path to the holodeck that they trained in, so he was no longer needed as a guide. But that didn't matter much, seeing as how he was usually in his room, or in the park that was mentioned earlier. He could often be seen talking to himself, even arguing in a language that didn't even sound like it was from Earth. It didn't make any sense to the spies that he would be so reclusive after being so open.  
  
Well, time passes and Saturday rolled around, and Sam was on her way into the library. She opened the door and walked to the seating area. There, on of the couches with a large atlas in front of him, was Nate, pouring over page after page of information. She snuck up behind him and looked over his shoulder, about to say something and try to surprise him when:  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Oh, um, nothing, just didn't expect to see you here," she said quickly, as if nothing was going on.  
  
"Right, I told you I come here every Saturday," he looked over his shoulder at her. "What do you want?"  
  
"Just wonderin' what's up," she stepped around the couch and sat down next to him. "Anymore dreams?"  
  
"No, it stopped," he sighed, grateful for the full nights of sleep. "How are you guys doing, how's training."  
  
"It's hard, but hey, no pain no gain," she smiled.  
  
"I guess, how are the other two?"  
  
"Well, Alex misses you, and Clover could care less."  
  
"Hm," he turned the page and looked at the map of South America. 'Patagonia, a good place to hide.'  
  
"I was wondering..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"...what happened to you on that holodeck last week?"  
  
"I failed a mission, and lost control," he said and turned the page again, these had close ups of various parts of South America. "A little girl is dead because I was too slow."  
  
"But...it was a hologram, right?"  
  
"Hologram's don't cry, Samantha," he hissed. "Holograms don't scream, holograms don't have bones to break, and organ to crush, holograms don't bleed."  
  
He told her about the whole mission on the holodeck, from beginning to end, leaving out certain bits of information, and she sat and listened. The story she heard was too horrifying to believe, but she didn't have any choice but to believe it.  
  
"Not a word to the others, especially him," he said.  
  
"Right."  
  
"Good, thanks Sam, there aren't many people I can trust, I'm glad you're one of them," he sighed and looked up from the book, a cloudy red was mixing with the green of his eyes again. "So, what are you looking for today?"  
  
TBC  
  
There, sorry for it taking so damn long. Well, now you know what happened, and that ate up about 3 of these 10 pages. Well, it's late, and I have school tomorrow, and work, and so much else to do. I'm going to start working on other stories now, such as "The Mutant" and "The Assassin: Nemesis". Oh, I might start a Teen Titans fic, there are still some ideas floating around in this head of mine. Has anyone noticed that most of my stories start with 'the', I guess that's my thing, short and simplistic, instead of a title that confuses the reader. I leave you with this, my favorite quote, "Blackmail is such an ugly word, I prefer extortion, the ex makes it sound cool." Whoever can name the person who said that, and the situation in which it was said, you can have a spot in one of my fics, your choice. Late. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
Claimer: Any and all OCs in this story are mine, please ask before using them  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
***** - time/scene change  
  
*** - dream  
  
=+= - flashback  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 5  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Nate and Sam talked for a while, and in that while she never once asked about the red floating around in his eyes. She had simply attributed it as something that he would instantly say is classified. But there was one thing she wanted to ask, and hoped that it wasn't classified.  
  
"Nate?" she asked a little hesitantly.  
  
"Yes?" he turned another page in the atlas.  
  
"What happened to your mother?"  
  
"She died," he said simply, focusing his eyes on a barren spot in the remoteness of Siberia.  
  
"How?"  
  
"They experimented on her," he said in a hushed voice, he knew that WOOHP had pretty much every building in the LA/BH area bugged. "She was what they called first generation, I'm second generation. The mistakes they made with her were weeded out and here I am."  
  
"She volunteered, right?" Sam asked lowering her voice to the same level as his.  
  
"That's what they told me, but I wouldn't put it past them to seek out the most viable host for this thing," he looked at his arm, the skin peeling back to reveal his metal bones and other circuitry. "That's what it is Sam, a parasite that they'll put inside you. Sure it'll give you strength and powers far beyond what even they're greatest inventions can achieve, but you become a slave."  
  
"That's so sad," she said with a small sniff and a dab at her eye.  
  
Nate almost chuckled at the look in her eye, she truly was sincere, not something he was used to. Even Jerry was starting to speak in half-riddles to him, always encrypting his thoughts. It annoyed the assassin to no end really, how someone who he used to look up to would begin to distrust him. But Jerry didn't know, he didn't know that his son knew what he was up to; he didn't know that Nate knew about WOOHE (you'll find out later, just like everyone else, even you Mephist and Devin).  
  
Sam looked at Nate and noticed that a small smile was on his lips, she was almost mesmerized. It wasn't like she was being drawn to him, well she was, but it was the same thing with every other teenage female. He was right next to her ear when she heard him whisper:  
  
"When she shows up, let her in," he said and then got up, leaving her hanging, literally, on the edge of her seat. He grabbed the atlas and put it back with the rest.  
  
"What do you mean?" she called after him.  
  
"You'll see (and so will you, hahahaha)," he waved over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn around.  
  
*****  
  
"So Sammy, what did you two talk about?" Alex asked with just the slightest hint of jealousy in her voice.  
  
"Just the usual stuff, books, music, his mother, normal stuff," she said the last part rather quickly, but Alex heard.  
  
"He told you, but I thought he would only tell me," she huffed.  
  
"Tell you what?" Clover asked as she just arrived.  
  
"Nothing," the two said in unison.  
  
"Sorry, didn't know you two kept secrets from your best friend," she held up her hands and started to walk away.  
  
"It's about Nate's mom," Alex said in a dejected voice, hoping to guilt Clover into coming back; which she was more than willing to do.  
  
"Really, so what happened to the freak's mom?" she asked getting a little too excited.  
  
"We're not telling you with that attitude," Sam said and placed her hand on Alex's shoulder, leading her away. "He's not a freak, if you two had actually exchanged more than just greetings and witty comebacks to insults, you'd realize that too. You know Clover, sometimes you can be really shallow."  
  
"Yeah," Alex added her two cents.  
  
*****  
  
Nate sat in the park, his legs crossed beneath him and his tank top on the ground beside him. Atop his shirt was a sword, and before him was a watermelon, propped up on a pedestal. In a flash of movement he grabbed the sword, was up on his feet, crossed the distance between himself and his target, and sliced the melon in half. The sword was then sheathed and slipped into his belt.  
  
"This is boring," he said as the sword was drawn again and the pedestal wad sliced into four equal-sized pieces. "I need something to do!"  
  
He drove the sword into the ground, sending a pulse down his arm, through the sword and into the ground. A large fissure formed and streaked to tree, toppling it, cut into two pieces. It wasn't enough, he needed more, more challenges, nothing was entertaining anymore, nothing was important anymore. Except one thing, but that was beyond his reach for the time being.  
  
-----  
  
Elsewhere in WOOHP someone was sitting in a monitoring room, watching all the vital statistics of Nate's body and mind.  
  
"Hm, mental activity is up a little," he said sipping his coffee, then spit it out, "and still rising?"  
  
-----  
  
"Hiya!" Nate swung the sword, the blade breaking apart into three inch section, connected by an indeterminable length of chain.  
  
The chain wrapped around the nearest tree and uprooted it, slicing it into six pieces, which were then spit down the middle. The sword returned to its normal form and was sheathed as he drew his revolver. The chamber clicked and a single round was fired, hitting the wall and exploding on contact. The holographic city around him disappeared while the destroyed park remained as it was.  
  
"What is it? What does she want me to do? Who is she?!"  
  
His angel arm began to grow, revealing that it was not just his arm that adopted the metallic color, but also much of his left side. He aimed the weapon, not fully transformed, at the ground and fired, blasting a hole through the dirt, into the metal beneath it, and through that as well. As soon as that happened, gas began to fill the room, but he paid it no mind, being as he was meant he didn't have to breathe.  
  
The angel arm began to recede back into the gun, and once it was gone, he fired another round into the hole, receiving an ominous metal on metal sound. This was impossible in his mind, seeing as how he was on the bottom level of the WOOHP underground, there should have been nothing beneath him. He had found was he was looking for, and thus holstered his revolver, sheathed his sword, and slipped his tank back on.  
  
'There she is,' he thought as he left, only to be met by an armed squadron. "Hi."  
  
Their response was one he expected, they fired their cryo-weapons, but found he had erected a shield at the last second. The shield wasn't like the other, this one simply had a green outline and random green flashes that proved it was there. He dropped the shield, rushed forward and took them all out in a relatively short amount of time. Standing over them, it was now he made up his mind, it was just the right time too.  
  
"Time to leave," he said and ran through the corridors, ducking into secret passages to avoid detection.  
  
One such passage led directly to his room, which was where he was heading. He grabbed his weapons and tucked them into a bag, along with his shifter clothing from the closet. Each weapon retracted to its most basic form as he grabbed it. He was just dropping in the last one when a knock came to his door.  
  
"Nate, open up, what are you doing!?" Jerry yelled through the door.  
  
The assassin stood up, slung the bag over his shoulder, lifted one leg, and dealt a swift, powerful kick to the door, sending it, and his father, back again the wall across the hall. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light behind him, looking down at the old man with a look of disgust. A wave of memory his him then, from all those mind-wipes he had gone though.  
  
'Felicia?' he thought as her memory came up. "I killed her because you said she was manipulating me, how could I have been so blind?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know who," he kicked Jerry in the ribs and looked down the hall one way then the other.  
  
The sounds of feet coming towards his location had entered his ears; he had to cut this meeting short.  
  
"We'll find you," Jerry said getting up and straightening his tie.  
  
"Doubt it," Nate smirked and ran back into his room, and into the passage in the shower.  
  
*****  
  
In minutes he was in his jet, his motorcycle loaded in the small cargo hold, and was now on the catapult. The doors opened, though it seemed like they wanted to stay closed, and he punched the engines, easily escaping through the partially opened doors. He had come out underwater, somewhere off the coast of LA, and broke the surface about ten miles out. There were few places he could go, but he had already planned this.  
  
"I wonder if Natalie knew about this?" he wondered to himself as he flew out a few more miles, easily reaching a small island between California and Hawaii.  
  
It was there he stopped and opened the door on the side of the cockpit. He lifted the panel in his arm and took out the transponder, then threw it out the door, knowing it would land on the island, or in the water around it. Swift manipulation of the controls and he was heading back towards the mainland, but not to LA, he was heading more north than that.  
  
*****  
  
It wasn't long before he was skimming across the top of the water, just beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. He looked up through the cockpit canopy and a small smile crept over his lips. A small explosion ensued underneath the bridge, and pieces of a security camera fell around him. With that done he headed towards shore, stealth mode enabled. He tipped the wings, one wing tip dipping into the water as he maneuvered towards an abandoned warehouse, a panel in the roof opening briefly to allow him access.  
  
After setting it down he got out, the cargo platform lowering as he did so. Secured to the platform was his motorcycle, which disengaged automatically and rolled onto the concrete floor. He opened the small cargo hatch on the back and tossed the dufflebag inside, took out his helmet, and closed the lid. Walking around the side of the bike, he straddled the seat, ran a quick systems check, then started the engine. Slipping the helmet on, he stuck a finger underneath it and pushed the microphone for his comm. system into position.  
  
Picking up a small remote he pressed the button and the large doors opened before him, revealing the road to San Francisco. With a small smile he revved the engine and took off, the doors closing behind him.  
  
*****  
  
"Dammit, I want him found, I want every city west of the Mississippi River searched and researched. I don't care how long it takes, find him, catch him, and bring him back here," Jerry yelled into the phone before slamming it down. He then leaned back in his chair, his hands on his stomach, fingers twined together. "You always said this would happen, didn't you Erica?"  
  
WOOHP HQ had been thrown in a state of temporary turmoil what with Nate going berserk and all. Not one person knew what had happened, besides the people at the very top of the chain. When they had injected Nate with the technologies that now ran rampant through his body, they had taken a part of him, a small part, but an important part nonetheless. Over time that part had been cultivated and grown into two separate entities, the girl held in the freezer far below WOOHP, and another, darker entity.  
  
This entity had been kept and raised for one specific purpose, this purpose. If Nate had ever lost it and gone crazy (at least by their standards) this one would take his place as an assassin. He had been tought exactly how to act like Nate, from both training sessions on the holodeck, and by receiving memories straight from Nate himself. And just when the techs had believed that they were infallible, when they thought they would never lose control over their prized experiment, it happens, and their back up plan couldn't be put into action. In all their arrogance they had incinerated the entity, codenamed Chaos. He was gone, and they had nothing.  
  
"Idiots, the girl isn't designed to be assassin, she could never take over his job," Jerry thought aloud. "Unless..."  
  
*****  
  
"According to her, I have to find her, then get to her, so she can merge with me," Nate spoke into the microphone, committing everything he was saying to a audio recording on the onboard harddrive in his bike. "What that means is...I have no idea what that means. Also according to her I have found her many times before, but have always had my mind wiped, now all the memories that had been wiped are back, and I remember. Are you getting all this?"  
  
"Affirmative," the computer chimed in his earpiece.  
  
"Good."  
  
He pulled into an alley, crossing two lanes of heavy traffic with ease to pull up behind a tavern; the tavern carrying the name "Leviathan's." The bike skidded to a halt beside some trashcans and he looked around, then got off. A secret platform began to lower his bike underground, then was replaced by a piece of asphalt that was exactly as it was before. He walked around to the front of the building and stepped inside, walking down a short hallway to the main room; in which there was the bar, and a few tables, most of which were empty at this time of day. A rather pretty waitress was at one of the table taking an order, and behind the bar was a tall man, about 6'3", with short-cropped and spiked hair, who was wiping a glass and looking very bored. Nate stepped up to the bar and sat down on one of the stools, rapping his knuckle twice on the countertop.  
  
"Haven't seen you in a while," the bartender said not even looking at him. "The usual I suppose?"  
  
"Yeah," Nate said turning around in the stool to place his elbows on the bar behind him, and leaning his back against the rounded brass lip. "How've things been Devin?"  
  
"So-so, you know, once you leave WOOHP, they don't care much for you, don't even keep proper surveillance," he said with a small laugh and slid a bottle of Guinness towards Nate. "You here on official business, or just for a visit?"  
  
"I got out, so they'll probably be looking for me," the green-clad assassin replied, taking a sip of his beer. "I need a room, preferably one with two beds."  
  
"Ah, expecting some latenight visitors, are we?" Devin asked leaning in close.  
  
"You could say that, three of them actually," Nate smirked. "You remember the three spies that Jerry hired a couple years ago?"  
  
"Yeah, what about 'em?"  
  
"One of them kinda has it in for me, and where one goes the others usually follow. WOOHP knows my hangouts, they'll most likely send those three after me. Here's a picture," Nate slid a picture of three girls, with himself behind them, over the counter. "If you see them, send them up to me room."  
  
"Can do," Devin made a half-assed salute gesture, which might have been half-decent, had he not done it with his elbows on the countertop.  
  
The waitress, Nate noticed, had finished taking the order and was walking back to the counter when she spotted Nate. She was a fairly tall woman, between 5'5" and 5'7", and was very, how shall I say...well endowed. Sparkling blue eyes looked at Nate, with a bit of wonder, as if trying to remember him from somewhere. Her brow was furrowed and her loosely curled blonde hair was pulled forward slightly.  
  
"Nate, is that you?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, how you been Gracie?" he ruffed her hair.  
  
"Quit it," she batted at his hand. "Where have you been? It's been six months, you never call, you never write, and...who are they?"  
  
She was looking at the picture that her employer was currently drooling over. With a rapid movement of her hand, she was now the one holding it, her eyes transfixed on the redhead. Grace had come to San Francisco for one reason, to escape public ridicule, being the lesbian that she was.  
  
"Who's Red?" she asked never taking her eyes from the picture.  
  
"That Sam, you might like her," Nate sipped his beer again. "I'll be heading back tomorrow, I have to pick up something."  
  
"You mean Project E," Devin corrected him.  
  
"Yeah, that."  
  
Here we go, two backgrounds to sum up. Devin Levia (you never gave more your last name, so I improvised), 21 years old, once worked for WOOHP as a top-level researcher. He had worked on a project called LEVIATHAN, a large, serpent-styled machine for underwater combat. When the project was cancelled (way over budget) he left WOOHP and moved up to San Francisco to open a bar/hotel, hence the name of the pub. The bar caters mainly to straight men and the lesbians that come to ogle the waitress.  
  
Grace Williams a busty 19 year old lesbian who had once been like Sam, Clover and Alex, a WOOHP agent, but left when she was 17 due to what had called "a hostile working environment." Truth be told she was getting too involved with one female agent and left because she found out the girl wasn't gay. She had collected what money she could and bought a bus ticket up to San Fran, to be with her own kind. Having known Devin from WOOHP, he was quick to give her a job.  
  
Well, that was easy enough, back to the story.  
  
"You're going back to get what they took, right?" Devin inquired leaning over the counter.  
  
"Right, the girl."  
  
"What girl?" Grace asked looking a bit confused.  
  
"For the nanomachines to bond with Nate's cells, they had to remove some chromosomes, which grew into a female version of himself. I believe that's how it went, I was kept in the dark about most of what they did."  
  
Nate blinked, "I thought you worked on the LEVIATHAN, not Project E?"  
  
"Natalie tends to let things slip when she's had one too many," he smirked and popped open another bottle, handing it to Nate, seeing the one he had at the moment was empty. "She still comes through here once in a while, when they give her clearance."  
  
"You mean Natalie Rivage?" the girl in the waitress getup asked looking between the two, who nodded. "She was hot."  
  
The two men sighed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," Devin said quickly and passed her the order for the table.  
  
"How do you do that?" she asked taking the plate. "You're hands didn't leave the counter once."  
  
"It's magic," he said with a bit of aloofness.  
  
"Do you know what they were using her for?" Nate asked bent on getting his answers.  
  
"They were engineering her to be the pilot for the Daedalus," he whispered back. "They basically split you in half from what I heard, and it was easy to copy the procedure they used on you, on her, only these nanites are modified, more advanced than yours."  
  
"I know that, but there was another."  
  
"Oh, you mean Chaos, he's gone, thrown in the reactor. It matters not anyway, she's much more valuable than he could ever be."  
  
They stayed there in silence for a few minutes, with Grace occasionally coming back to the counter with an order. She may have been blonde, and a little ditzy (kinda like Clover), but she knew when people didn't want to talk (unlike Clover).  
  
*****  
  
"Good of you to come girls, we've been review past entries in Nate's files, and we believe we've found where he is," Jerry said as the three spies stepped through the doors. Not even waiting for a reply he continued, "Here are you're gadgets, laser lipstick, nightvision sunglasses, and PESS."  
  
"Thanks Jerry, but we don't want any candy," Alex said waving her arms in front of her in a "No" gesture.  
  
"Not pez, P-E-S-S, Personal ElectroStatic Shield," he tossed them each a bracelet with a different colored disc in it. "It forms an impenetrable bubble around you, but be advised, they only last for about two minutes before needing to be recharged."  
  
"What else?" Sam asked knowing there had to be more.  
  
"Yes, this electromagnetic net gun, it'll gave you three chances to capture and disable him," the head of WOOHP said tossing Sam what looked to be a modified evapo-blaster (you know, the stupid thing that evaporates water). "Now get going to the hangar, you're ride is waiting for you there. Clover, hang back a second."  
  
"What is it Jer?" she asked standing in front of him.  
  
"Take this, it's an EM taser, one touch and he'll be completely immobilized," he handed her the taser and when she was about to leave he said, "I'm counting on you Clover, don't come back empty handed."  
  
"Yes, Sir," she saluted and left.  
  
"There will be hell to pay if you do," Jerry said when she was long gone. He then pressed a button on the intercom, "How is the Daedalus coming?"  
  
"So far so good, we've had to make do with the data that we have, seeing as how most of it was destroyed when Levia left," a tech's voice answered.  
  
"Why would you destroy such valuable data?"  
  
"It was per your orders, Sir," the tech's voice trembled slightly.  
  
=+=  
  
"It's called Murphy's Law, Jerry," Nate said as he laid down his favorite monster card. "Everything can and will go wrong. Black Luster Soldier – Envoy of the Beginning will attack, destroying your monster, and then attack again for game."  
  
"Shoot, I can never draw the right cards," Jerry said from the other side of the table.  
  
"Drawing the right cards and using the cards you draw properly are two different things, Jerry. A good duelist would know how to use the cards in his hand to his advantage, and not wait on one monster to win for him."  
  
Nate grabbed his deck and the deck he'd lent his father, getting ready to go.  
  
"One more time," Jerry said sternly, and Nate set the deck down in front of him, proceeding to shuffle his own.  
  
=+=  
  
"Sir, are you there?" the voice in the intercom aroused Jerry from his reverie.  
  
"Yes, I'm here, I was just remembering something," the aging man said.  
  
"We've found Levia's tertiary files, we should have the Daedalus Project up and running within the week, once we finish decrypting these files."  
  
"Good work, you should all take a break and get back to work tomorrow, set the computers to auto and have them decrypt through the night."  
  
"Yes, Sir," the tech said with a tinge of glee in his voice. "Good night, Sir."  
  
The intercom went dead and Jerry was left in the silence of his cavernous office. Looking over at the clock her saw that it was almost two AM, he couldn't remember the last time he'd sent his agents out this late, but he wasn't about to call them back; this mission was too important.  
  
"Murphy's Law, you used to talk about it all the time Erica," he swiveled his chair absentmindedly. "I guess he's more like you than I thought."  
  
A rectangular hole opened in his desk, about five inches by half an inch. A small holo-projector floated up from the hole, with its base soon following. An image appeared in between the two, and image of a woman, in her mid thirties with sparkling green eyes and deep green hair. She was sort of half turned from the camera, not facing it full on, so only one of her eyes had that twinkle, the other looking dark and foreboding. The half of her mouth that was in the light was a smile, while the other half held no expression at all. These were the two faces of WOOHP's best assassin, Erica Sindel.  
  
TBC  
  
There, I'm finally done, sorry for it taking so long. I had school, and work, and free dueling on Wednesdays. Don't get me wrong, I do miss the writing, it's just that I can somehow only get inspiration at midnight, and listening to some good rock music. Devin, if there is something about your character that you want changed, too bad, I wanted to make him at least half descent and respectable. Okay, what I'm looking for now are names for the mystery girl. I'm having a very hard time deciding on one, so I figured I'd leave it to the fans. That's all from me, I could keep rambling, but I know barely any of you read this anyway. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
Claimer: Any and all OCs in this story are mine, please ask before using them  
  
IMPORTANT To those of you who don't thoroughly read things, there's a little paragraph the follows every chapter, and it contains some important stuff. I suggest you read it next time.  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) - author's notes  
  
=- time/scene change  
  
== - flashback  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 6  
  
=======================================================  
  
"It doesn't matter," Nate said to himself as he stood on the small balcony of his room. "Nothing that they say or do will change my mind."  
  
He was speaking, of course, of Sam, Alex and Clover, who had still yet to arrive, but he knew it was only a matter of time. It was time for two of them to see the truth about their friend, a truth he was surprised they couldn't see. Turning away from the moon, which was hovering just above one of the towers of the bridge, he slid the door shut and sat at the small table provided.  
  
Plugged in the walljack was his laptop, which was currently sifting through the data that Devin had given him. He needed to know how she would be modified to pilot the Daedalus. According to the information, the pilot would need to be grafted directly to the biomechanical brainstem of the Daedalus. They would cease to exist and become the catalyst for all functions within the machine.  
  
"I can't allow that," he closed the laptop as lights went by his window, turning behind the pub below. "They're here."  
  
It didn't take long for there to be knock at his door, and he went to answer it. Before he touched the knob, though, he looked through the door and saw Clover pressing her taser against it. He shook his head and punched a hole through the door, knocking Clover in the head, causing her to drop her weapon.  
  
"What the hell?" he heard Sam asked as he opened the door.  
  
The blonde was on the floor, shaking and convulsing, sparks shooting from her mouth. Then, all of a sudden, the twitching stopped, and she laid still, light wisps of smoke rising from her body. Kicking her over, Nate saw the taser lying on the floor beneath her. He looked at the other two, who seemed saddened at the loss of their friend, and he figured now was as good a time as any.  
  
"Nate, how could you, given that she was going to use it on you, you didn't have to kill her," Alex said with tears in her eyes.  
  
"Alex, look," he grabbed Clover, twined his fingers tightly in her hair, and yanked as hard as he could.  
  
The skin on Clover's head was pulled right off, revealing there to be a robot beneath it. Dropping it back to the floor, he tossed the fake face to Sam, who examined it closely.  
  
"Isn't it amazing that that's what we all look like on the inside (what's this from)?" Alex asked gaining an exasperated look from both Nate and Sam.  
  
"Hey, this feels just like that stuff those duplicates of us were made of," the redhead said.  
  
"It is."  
  
"Then where's Clover?" Alex looked over the robot, marveling at how well it copied Clover.  
  
"Clover has been on vacation with her mother and father for the past three days, she told you," the assassin said ushering them into the room.  
  
"She showed up at school and told us the vacation was off," Sam said sitting at the table while Alex sat on one of the beds. She then reached for the laptop, "What are you working on?"  
  
"Don't touch that," he snapped glaring at her, sometimes she could be little nosey. "Nothing you need to know about."  
  
"Is it about the girl you told me about? You told me to let her in when she arrived, didn't you?" Sam looked accusingly at him, her own glare making him chuckle.  
  
"Who is she?" Alex asked looking between the two.  
  
"That's none of your business," his gaze turned to the young girl, a cloud of red passing over his iris.  
  
He moved passed the bed to the door and grabbed the Clover-android, dragging it into the room. Once inside he shut the door and threw it in a corner, planning on tinkering with it later. Walking to a small line of buttons on the wall, like the kind inside an elevator, his finger hovering in front of it. Looking back at the two girls he asked:  
  
"You want anything to drink?"  
  
"Um...Coke?" Sam replied.  
  
"Diet Coke for me," Alex waved from the bed roughly five feet away.  
  
"Alright," he pressed three buttons and within a few seconds a vacuum tube (I got the idea from Monster House) in the wall opened there was a bottle of Coke, Diet Coke, and Guinness. Taking the sodas out he tossed them to the appropriate person. Sitting down on the edge of the second bed, he sighed, "Sorry I snapped at you girls, I'm just a little high strung at the moment."  
  
"So, what do you plan to do with that?" Sam asked looking over at the robot.  
  
"I don't know yet," he said knowing full well what he was going to do. "Sam, could I have a look at that watch?"  
  
"Huh, sure," she handed her flower-shaped watch to him, which he quickly crushed. "Hey?!"  
  
"Watches have eyes and walls have ears, Sam, it wasn't turned on just now, but I had to make sure," he turned his attention to Alex, who had her watch out as well. "Yours wasn't WOOHP provided, so there's no need."  
  
Moving further up on the bed, almost to the head, he reached over the edge and grabbed his pack, opening it and taking out his deck. The green protectors on his cards were heavily worn and most of them were see through. With near-lightening motions of his hands he began shuffling them, calculating the movements to know that none of the cards were anywhere near the cards they started next to. All the while he was looking at Sam, at the noticeable bulge in her backpack.  
  
"You play?" he asked placing the deck on the bed.  
  
"H-how did you know?" she looked between him and Alex.  
  
"You keep a deck in the side pocket of your backpack, there are forty-four cards in it," he smiled as she retrieved her cards, placing the pack on the floor.  
  
"Alex, what time is it?" Sam asked as she eyed Nate's deck, sitting innocently on the bed.  
  
"Um, three thirty in the morning," she said looked at her watch.  
  
"Hm, hey Sam how bout a quick duel?" he sat with a small smile on his face, looking at the deck in the spy's hand. "Or should we wait till morning?"  
  
"We should wait, Jerry kinda pulled us out of bed, and I'd like to get back to sleep," she placed the deck on desk, next to the closed laptop, and moved to sit next to Alex on the bed. "These are big enough for two people, so..."  
  
"You and Alex take that one, and this one's mine," he picked up his deck and placed it onto the nightstand.  
  
Pulling off his tank top and kicking off his boots, he laid down on the bed and placed his hands behind his head. His eyes closed as he heard the click of the light going off and drifted off to sleep. Sam and Alex followed suit, but they didn't take off their outfits; if Nate hadn't been there, they probably would have.  
  
=  
  
An hour later Nate woke up and looked over at Sam and Alex, sound asleep. He smiled, they actually were kind of cute, when they were quiet. Walking over to the android, he opened its back and slipped a small plug that appeared on his finger into an outlet. In a few minutes he had accomplished what he had set out to do and reprogrammed it. With that he dropped it back in the corner, ready for the morrow night's excursion.  
  
Looking out the sliding glass door, he saw that the moon was still out, and stepped onto the balcony. He sighed and sipped the beer he had yet to finish. Unconsciously he began looking at stars, trying to spot and name constellations. While he was envisioning the constellation Draco, two arms slipped around his front, and tightened, pulling the body closer behind him. A head was placed between his shoulder blades, and soft hair tickled the base of his neck.  
  
"Alex, why aren't you asleep?" he asked knowing exactly who it was.  
  
"How did you know it was me?"  
  
"Because Sam isn't interested; if you're thinking of the time we spend at the library, it's because we both like books," he moved one of his hands that were resting on the railing and placed it over hers. "Now, why aren't you in bed?"  
  
She sighed and tightened her arms around his middle, "It's hard for me to sleep in a bed other than my own. The beds here are too hard. I'm not tired. Sam snores too loud."  
  
"Only two of those reasons made any sense," he smiled lightly to himself.  
  
"Nate, I want you to answer a question of mine," she said sounding a little different.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"When you get back to Beverly Hills...if you get back to Beverly Hills, do you think we could go on a date?" she asked hesitantly, thinking carefully about what she wanted to say.  
  
"I don't see the harm," he said and felt her gasp against his back.  
  
"Promise?" she squeaked.  
  
"I promise," he turned around and looked down at her smiling face. "Now go back to bed."  
  
She nodded silently and walked back inside, keeping the image of him bathed in moonlight fresh in her mind. Without really thinking, she got into the second bed, leaving Sam to roll over and stretch out in the first, alone. A slight whimper escaped her when her arm reached over, intending on wrapping it around her friend, but alas found no one there. Arm flailing about, she finally grabbed a pillow and pulled it against herself.  
  
=  
  
"So, that's that they've been up to," Nate said to himself as he went over mission files from Sam, Clover, and Alex's missions before meeting him. "I wonder why they've been given such hard missions, it doesn't make any sense."  
  
It was early the next morning, and Sam and Alex were still asleep. He had hacked into the WOOHP database and was looking over all their early missions, wondering what things would have been like if he'd been there. Nothing could possibly have given him more pleasure than doing some normal spy work, killing got boring after a while; it was just too easy.  
  
He heard the girls beginning to stir and picked up the laptop, opened the ruined door, and went down to the bar for some breakfast. Placing the computer on a table, he reopened it and started running through the files again. There was a creaking of door hinges, and the shuffling of feet before Devin was standing behind him.  
  
"Daedalus?" he asked looking over the schematics.  
  
"Yeah, they found the tertiary files, and started up the program again," Nate sighed as he focused most of his attention on the cockpit. "They'll be done decrypting them in six days."  
  
"Doesn't matter, there's a little surprise waiting for them on that day," Devin laughed a little at his own genius.  
  
"Last line of code is linked to a bunch of explosives," Nate said.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"They figured that out last night and deactivated them," he switched the screen from the schematics to security cameras. "It's starting to take shape. I'll have to make my move tonight."  
  
"Well, I'd help, but I'll just keep watch of the spies," he looked towards the stairs.  
  
"They're coming with me," Nate replied as he moved the security camera left and right. "There he is."  
  
The camera focused in on a catwalk above the serpentine machine, there was Jerry, overseeing the construction. His eyes moved ceaselessly, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder. This was a bit of a problem, but nothing he couldn't handle. The reprogramming of the robot Clover would take care of that. To be honest, Nate could care less about what WOOHP did, as long as they left him alone, and gave him back what they took.  
  
"So, you're going to get her back, how do you plan to do that?"  
  
"I'm not telling, there's still the chance you're working for them," he replied closing the laptop and sitting back in his chair.  
  
"Yes, I guess in your position you can't trust anyone," Devin laughed and started back towards the bar. "While I'm back here, you hungry."  
  
"Not really, but they might be," he pointed to Sam and Alex who had just come down the stairs.  
  
=  
  
"So, Dr. Rivage, how are the modifications coming?" Jerry asked.  
  
"Well, to be honest, her physical and genetic makeup isn't cooperating with the upgrades. We believe it would be easier to just clone her and alter the clone with the upgrades from birth," Natalie said bringing her research on the matter up on the screen. "The way we engineered her, we didn't anticipate something like this. She was supposed to be a pilot, not a killer."  
  
"Very well, do whatever it takes," he waved her out of his office.  
  
She turned to leave his office, the submissive look on her face disappearing as a look of sadness replaced it.  
  
'I'm sorry Nate, but I've had to take a another piece,' she thought as she left. 'The security around here is going to prevent me from tampering with the clone that would destroy it, but that doesn't mean I can't tone the strength down a little.'  
  
With that thought she began smiling as she entered the lab, checking up on the child now growing in the test tube. The green hair had already begun to grown, and she shook slightly with growth spurts every few seconds. They had accelerated the growth rate to have her ready in time; she would be fully-grown in a few hours. Sighing Natalie sat hard in her chair and put her feet up on her desk.  
  
'Well, all that's left to do now is wait,' she thought as the lights went out for a second, then came back on.  
  
"What are you waiting for?" a female voice behind her asked.  
  
"You...but how?" the scientist asked turning to see the girl there.  
  
"There are holo-projectors in every corner of every room, I can be anywhere at any time," she smiled and looked at the clone. "Nicely done, I didn't think it would grow this fast."  
  
"We shouldn't be talking."  
  
"Do not worry, the security measures have been deactivated, we can speak freely."  
  
"Alright, why are you here?"  
  
"I get bored down in the cooler, so I visit people," she looked down. "But mostly it in their dreams, when their minds are hooked to the mainframe."  
  
"That's...so sad."  
  
"That's why I need to get out of here, and he's going to help me," she looked at the women not five feet away from her. "I know he's going to come, whatever it takes, we'll be whole again."  
  
"You know what happens when the merge goes through, right?" Natalie stood and locked the door. "What happens when you become whole?"  
  
"Yes, both of us cease to exist and become who we were before," the hologram leaned against the tank.  
  
"Do you understand what that will mean for the people who know him as he is?"  
  
"Yes, and I don't care, and neither does he. I know what he thinks, I know what he feels, and I feel the same," she turned and looked at the tank, at the clone of her who would soon die, "because we are the same."  
  
Natalie walked over to the hologram and was about to place her hand on the girl's stomach, but instead it passed right through. Smiling, she continued to move her hand against the tank, her arm extending right through the hologram's abdomen. The slight sensations of the photons against her bare arm made her giggle; it tickled, and made the hairs on her arm stand up.  
  
"Why do you act like that?" the hologram asked and moved to the side, so Natalie's hand slid through it. "What was the purpose of using Erica?"  
  
"She's your mother, yet you call her by her first name?" Natalie turned away from the tank and sat on her desk.  
  
"She was Nate's mother, and you used her to test what you put in him, now I'll ask again, why her?"  
  
"Because she was the most viable host for it, okay?" Natalie snapped with more force than she knew she needed. "She was the strongest, she was the fastest, the most resilient, there was no one more qualified."  
  
"That makes no difference, there were plenty of other options open to you at the time," the hologram's hands balled into fists. "If he heard you talking about her like she had been a piece of meat, do you know what he would have done?"  
  
The hologram vanished and the lights flickered again, and the door unlocked. Natalie swung her feet back and forth a little before collapsing to the floor. It was true that there were other ways for them to test the probes, they didn't necessarily need Erica. It had just made sense to them at the time; if it was to be used on a human, use the best human specimen. They didn't know it would kill her, but that wouldn't have happened had the probes been checked thoroughly enough.  
  
"There was a problem in each and every one of the probes," she lifted her head when she heard the audio file start on her computer. "We didn't know about it till it was too late. She was walking for a few hours before we activated the probes, and in that time she was telling us she felt fine. Once activated, the transfer energy system sent power to the probes, which in turn began directing the power straight to her body, killing her. It seemed strange to me, though, that the problem was actually an upgrade ordered by Jer-"  
  
"STOP IT!" she screamed flinging her chair at the computer screen, then ripped the speakers from her desk and threw them across the room. "We...we didn't know."  
  
=  
  
"Let's see, they'll have guards at the door, but that's not the real problem," Nate said as he checked through the security camera logs. "The real problem is this."  
  
He brought up the feed from Dr. Rivage's office, and there were a few minutes when the camera went off, and there was no sound. When the feed returned, the monitor was broken and the speakers lay on the floor. It made perfect sense to him how that happened, she had moved beyond the holodeck and was using the projectors in the labs. She was getting impatient.  
  
'You won't have long to wait,' he thought.  
  
"What happened in there?" Alex asked looking over his shoulder.  
  
"Don't know, maybe she was thinking too hard," Nate shrugged leaving Alex completely oblivious to his lie. "Or she might have gotten some bad news."  
  
'He knows something,' Alex thought, 'but what?'  
  
Nate's eyes flicked from the screen to Alex every few seconds, he felt something different towards this one; she was different somehow. He knew he shouldn't let it bother him, but being here, in this relaxed place, it was making him think about things he normally wouldn't. Shifting his thoughts from her, he turned them to Sam and Grace, who were at a table at the other end of the restaurant. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but they did giggle a lot.  
  
'I see those two are hitting it off quite well,' he thought as he shut the laptop and leaned back in his chair.  
  
After a few minutes he looked over at the clock and pushed the chair back, getting the attention of the two spies. Getting up his trench coat began to grow from the tank top he was wearing. He went upstairs and came back down with the robot Clover, her face was put back on, but the eyes were still closed. Placing her on the floor he sat back down and looked at the other two.  
  
"What are you gonna do with that?" Alex asked eyeing the Clover-bot.  
  
"That is going to be bringing me in," he smirked patting it on its blonde head. "Unconscious and in chains."  
  
"Whadda you mean?"  
  
"It's the only way to get inside WOOHP without drawing attention," he said with a slight sigh.  
  
"But wouldn't they have realized by now that the android's been knocked out?" Sam asked having walked over with Grace.  
  
"Not if it was taken out in such a way that it still broadcast a false signal," the smirk returned as he pushed the front two legs of the chair off the ground. "They always have backup transponders in those bots, they'll just think the main was damaged in a fight."  
  
"What are we doing while she brings you in?"  
  
"You two are going home, by now your mothers must be worried," he let the legs fall to the floor rather hard for the mood he was in. "And you'll have a new friend to explain to her, won't you Sam?"  
  
"W-what do you mean?" she asked as her face turned crimson.  
  
He didn't respond, just smiled a little and glanced between her and Grace, who had also blushed. The only one who looked confused was Alex; even Devin, who was listening from behind the bar, knew what he was talking about. It was no surprise where the picture Nate had of the three girls went; a search of Grace's room would find it there.  
  
"I think you already know what it is I mean, but that's for you to deal with," he stood up and grabbed Clover, placing her face down on the table. A quick tap to the back of her head brought the robot to life.  
  
Her eyes blinked opened and she looked around, finding herself down in the bar she had been in the previous night. Turning her head this way and that, she scanned her surroundings, Sam and Alex were there, as was the target. But something was wrong, he was no longer the target, the HUD (Heads Up Display) behind her eyes labeled him as an ally.  
  
"What happened?" she asked standing up.  
  
"You got knocked out, and I repaired you," Nate explained handing her back the tazer. "You fell on this."  
  
"Oh, that's right, I remember now," she said reading the false memory log. "So, um, what now?"  
  
"Now we go see Jerry," he smiled a very malicious smile.  
  
TBC  
  
Well, that's where I'm ending this one, though most of you probably won't heed my warning above and read this. It stated, last chapter, that I needed a name for the girl, and no one replied, why? It may not matter anymore, but I'd still like to know. It took me almost a month to get a name, and that was only because I contacted a very reliable friend, one who takes fanfiction to levels even I can't fathom. I'll leave it to you people to figure out who it is, he knows who he is. That's it, that's all for me for now, I'll be working on new chapters for other stories, so don't expect to see this one updated till June. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies  
  
Here it is, new chapter, finally. Sorry for the long wait, I've been working on things. School, work, trying to find a better job than the one I have, the usual stuff.  
  
" " – speech  
  
' ' - thought  
  
( ) – author's notes  
  
= scene change  
  
== flashback  
  
The Assassin: WOOHP Files  
  
Chapter 7  
  
===========================================  
  
The Clover-droid walked through the front doors of WOOHP International, through the lobby, and into the elevator. No one there seemed to notice the green-clad man thrown over her shoulder, chained up. Since no one notice, they didn't see the small smile he wore, or the twitch of his eyebrow.  
  
"Jerry's office," Clover-droid spoke and the elevator learched downward.  
  
Slowly she placed him the floor in the corner, inspecting the chains wrapped around him, holding his arms to his sides and his ankles and knees together. When she was finished she stood up and watched the digital numbers tick off the floor. Just because she was a droid didn't mean she didn't get bored once in a while. With a sigh she looked over her shoulder at her "target", it still felt strange calling him that, but it's what he said she should call him. As for why he would want to come back here, that's what confused her even more. Why go to a place where everyone wants to kill you?  
  
'Don't try to think about it, you're task is almost complete," a voice spoke in her head, his voice. 'Just a little further.'  
  
An almost unnoticeable nod from the robot answered his message as she turned to look down at him. The elevator jerked to a halt and the smile on his face disappeared. As the door opened the Clover-droid hefted him onto her shoulder and turned to exit the box. Into the spacious office she stepped, the old man sitting behind the large desk reading some files from another teams mission.  
  
"There you are, what took you?" he asked not looking at her. "Where are the other two?"  
  
"He was a tricky one to catch, the others got tired and went home."  
  
"Good, I'll give them a call," he reached for the phone.  
  
"There will be no need for that," Jerry heard a familiar voice say.  
  
He finally looked over at the Clover-bot, who was setting Nate down on his feet. The chains binding him snapped in several places and fell to the floor, the sound echoing through the cavernous office. He was about to reach for the alarm when a shot rang out, blowing away half his desk.  
  
"I really should thank you for designing these red caps, so much more effective than regular rounds," Nate said as he holstered his gun.  
  
"How...?" Jerry wanted to ask but he was cut off.  
  
"Even you aren't stupid enough to not know how. You built me to be ready for any situations and never overlook little details, such as to check who is on the other side of a door," Nate snapped causing Jerry to fall back into his chair, he had stood slightly when reaching for the alarm and never sat down. "Now then, I believe you know why I'm here."  
  
"No, I don't think I do," Jerry said as his hand slid under his desk for the secondary alarm. "Why don't you tell me?"  
  
"Don't play dumb Jerry, if you do, Clover might just have to give you a hug," he nodded to the android standing next to him. "And with her strength I don't think you'd last long."  
  
"She can't hurt me, it's not in her programming," Jerry smirked defiantly.  
  
"Hehe, programming can be changed," he chuckled. "Now how about you just hand her over to me and I won't have to kill anyone."  
  
"I don't know who you're talking about," Jerry shrugged while listening for the sound of footsteps.  
  
Nate sighed, apparently there was no getting his father to admit that he'd lost control of the situation. Shaking his head he nodded to Clover and turned to head out the door. Clover noticed his gesture and moved towards Jerry, who started to reach under his desk. When he came back up with a gun, Clover was right in front of him, knocking the gun away and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing his arms to his sides.  
  
"I told you not to resist," Nate said as the doors began closing. "Clover, hold onto him till I get back."  
  
"Okay," she replied with a bit of a bubbly look on her face.  
  
"You don't have to do this, I-I'll give her to you," Jerry yelled after him as the doors finally sealed shut.  
  
=  
  
'Too late,' Nate thought as he began walking down the hall, he had something more important to do than listen the ramblings of an old man. "Now, where was that door again?"  
  
He stopped in front of an elevator and tried the button, the doors refused to open; in fact, the light wasn't even on. Sighing, he knew what this was, level 1 system lockdown, all elevators, except the one leading to Jerry's office, were shut down, all doors that were electronically controlled were stripped of power. Personnel were on high-alert status, all were issued pulse rifles and PESS. All the non-military personnel had been moved to a secure area, a bunker-like establishment that was protected by an EDF (Energy Dispersion Field). He could blast at it with his angel arm all day and not even make a dent.  
  
"They can't take her there anyway, the sudden change in temperature would kill her, even with her cybernetic enhancements," he said though he was alone. "Probably should have brought Clover with me, even she can add a constructive comment now and then."  
  
Rounding a corner he was forced back around by a barrage of green lightening which flashed from a horde of pulse rifles. Smirking he pulled his Colt and check the magazine, five bullets, two red caps, two blue caps and one green. Making sure the green was last he rounded the corner and fired off a red cap. The bullet streaked through the air and hit the ceiling above the guards; they dropped their guns and held up their PESS, shielding them on all sides from falling debris. Nate fired off a blue cap, which ripped through their shields, reaching the center before exploding outward. A few seconds later a small hole appeared in space, sucking them all in screaming; it then faded into non-existence.  
  
The shields fell to the floor, clacking and spinning slightly like large coins, before settling down. He reopened the chamber and removed the other blue cap, turning it to read the side.  
  
"DANGER: Interdimensional Matter Transporter," he read aloud, having not actually ever read what the blue ones did before.  
  
Quickly he removed that one and the green one, not even wanting to know what it did. Reaching into his pocket he took out two red caps and two orange caps. Slipping them into the chamber and then closing it, he continued his trek down the hall. He stepped in front of a stairwell door and bashed his hand against it; the door crumpled and fell away. Taking his time he descended the ten flights of stairs he needed to get to the level he wanted.  
  
At the bottom was a proximity mine, which blew up as soon as he reached final landing. He had seen it coming and activated his shield in time to not be burned. The shield fell and he stepped through the destroyed door to another hail of pulse fire. The bolts of green lightening were poorly aimed at best and were constantly missing; which is odd because each rifle is inspected and calibrated to perfection.  
  
He reached beneath his trench coat and pulled his shotgun, taking aim and firing, the shot removing two of the ten guards. He stowed the shotgun and retrieved his grenade launcher, loading an orange-capped grenade. A glowing orange ball launched from the M203, struck one guard, and immediately ricocheted to another, and another, and another, slowly gathering strength for the finale. It struck the ground and exploded in a hellish fury of flames and shrapnel.  
  
Smiling again he slipped the gun back beneath his coat and continued down the hall. The temperature get colder and colder as he walked, the corridor seemingly going on forever. While walking he thought back to the schematics given to him by her, and, surprise, surprise, the door didn't have an EDF. His smile broadened as a bullet whizzed by his head, a regular bullet.  
  
"That was a warning shot," the woman holding the gun said.  
  
"I've never known you to give warning shots, Sarah," he replied as the smile fled from his lips. "Or am I different? You wanna try to stop me, stick me back in that chair and erase my memory? You're welcome to try."  
  
She fired again, this one hitting his right shoulder, and stopping as his skin hardened to the density of iron (which is actually stronger than steel, its weight made it unsuitable for construction). The dent the bullet made was forced outward and into its original shape. Sarah fired again, and again, both times the exact same thing happened. The bullets hit, dented, and were reshaped, no damage done to his internal parts.  
  
"Move away from the door, I don't want to hurt you," he said with his hands up in a symbol of peace.  
  
'Too bad, because I do,' a voice in his head said.  
  
Moments later the wall panels began to warp and bend, wires and cables slipping out through the cracks, behind Sarah's back. Nate saw it, and was about to do something, but his body was frozen, something had taken over. He couldn't even speak; she had completely hacked his system. Given that he knew she could do it, he had never thought she would; never believing that restrictions were needed. The cables encircled Sarah in a flash, knocking her gun away in the process. Her hands were pulled behind her back and tied together, her ankles snatched and pulled apart, while her upper legs were pulled together, forcing her to her knees.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked as more curled around her neck.  
  
'I'M NOT DOING IT!' he yelled from inside is mind.  
  
"Because you're in his way," his own voice betrayed him.  
  
"It's you..." Sarah would have said more, but the cables around her neck tightened.  
  
'Stop this,' he said calmly, 'she's not a threat.'  
  
"I know, but this will make sure she never will be."  
  
'What about Alex?' he asked trying one of her own tactics. 'What do you think she would say if you keep going? What will she say if you kill her?'  
  
"She doesn't have to know."  
  
'But she will, they'll all know it was you, because they know who I am. Now get out of my head or I will force you out.'  
  
That shocked her, he wouldn't force her out, she was part of him. But then she felt it, his pushing, pushing her out of the seat of power, and getting back into control. The changes weren't just inside him, but outside as well, the cables slackened and released Sarah. Nate shook his head, his already ragged hair getting more ruffled. Looking over at Sarah, he saw her back away.  
  
"Go home, just get out of this while you still have a choice," he said and stepped up to the door.  
  
"You're still going to let her out?"  
  
"I want what's mine," he placed his hand against the door, feeling it open at his touch. "Besides, without her the Daedalus is useless."  
  
"But she's a danger to those around her, including you," Sarah almost begged.  
  
"She's only like that because she's been cooped up for almost nineteen years," he stepped into the elevator and turned around. "Now take my advice and go home, I'm sure your mother has been worried sick."  
  
The doors closed before Sarah could reply, but it didn't matter what she was going to say, he already knew. It was almost time for him to be whole again, to be free from this empty feeling, and he was looking forward to it. As the elevator descended he removed his coat and pulled off the top part of his body suit, leaving it hanging from his waist. While he draped the coat over his forearm, his back split open, revealing the armor panels beneath. The panels then opened to reveal the circuitry within.  
  
"It's almost time."  
  
He turned around to face the door behind him, the one that led into the freezer. The door opened and in he stepped; it hadn't changed much, a few more computers sat next to the one he had previously used, but still only that one was connected to the girl. The others were for something else entirely, a quick scan using the wireless data ports told him everything he needed to know. The other computers were for gene sequencing, in layman's terms, cloning.  
  
"Hm, I wonder why they would want to clone her," he took one step into the room and was immediately attacked from both sides.  
  
Instantly his arms were raised and the weapons the two women carried clashed against his armor. Looking one way, he saw a large battle axe, and the other way was a broadsword. Looking above the weapons he saw two almost exact replicas of himself, except they were female. Both had their green hair cropped short around the bottoms of their ears. He then noticed the earrings they wore, one wore the hoop on her right ear, the other wore the hoop on her left ear.  
  
"Wait a minute..." he leapt up from between them and landed a few feet away, turning around to see the two girls merge into one. "Shit."  
  
"That's right, you're outnumbered, outmatched, and completely out of luck," the single woman said.  
  
"What the hell kind of line is that?" Nate asked as he dropped his coat to the floor and settled into a stance resembling that of battoujutsu (search on the net and ye who are not familiar will find)  
  
"We happen to think it is a very good line, better than anything you could come up with," she said as the sword and axe merged together as well.  
  
"Probably, course, I don't spend my time coming up with catchphrases," he smirked and slowly drew his sword, the edge glowing a faint gold. "So who makes the first move?"  
  
The two combatants eyed each other for a few seconds before Nate finally made the first move. His katana easily slashed through the clone's sword, and her arm, dropping the cybernetic lump to the floor. The clone dropped the sword handle to the floor, howling in pain. This didn't fool him for a second, they were faking, he just knew it. It was strange though, the seemed to be so much like her, it made him wonder, could she be the original, and he the copy.  
  
"No, I won't accept that," he turned to look behind him, at her, if she was what he thought, then his existence meant nothing. 'If they could clone her so easily, but not me, what does it mean?'  
  
'What is he thinking about?' the clone asked herself. 'Maybe he's confused.'  
  
"Wait," he said holding his hand up. "Listen, why are you trying to stop me?"  
  
"Because we were told to," she replied.  
  
"But think about it, now that they have you, they have no need for us," he gestured to the girl behind him.  
  
The clone thought about it, she really did, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He was right, now that WooHP had her, he was no longer needed, but what about the other. Wasn't she needed for something, she couldn't quite remember. What Nate said next put her questions to rest.  
  
"Anything she can do, you can do too, so she isn't needed either," he smiled a little, seeing the gears in her head turning. "let me take her out of here, so that they won't make anymore clones to replace you."  
  
"An interesting point," she looked over at the girl. "So I should just kill you both?"  
  
"No," he sighed, "we still have a purpose, outside of WooHP."  
  
"Very well, take her and leave," she lowered her weapon, the lower arm that had been severed regrew and she stepped away.  
  
"Alrighty," he pulled his suit back up and stepped over to one of the computers, turning off her connection to the system and lowering her to the floor.  
  
Getting up he walked over to her and began to remove the plug in the base of her skull. The cables connecting her arms and legs to the ceiling released, shrinking and coiling around to form her arms and legs. His trench coat, having been tossed to the side, was lifted and draped around her body. Standing, he lifted her in his arms and started towards the door, nodding to the clone as he passed her. The elevator doors opened as he approached, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.  
  
"Take this, Dr. Rivage told me to give it to you," she held out a zip disk, which he took.  
  
"What's on it?"  
  
"I do not know, but she said it was important."  
  
"Thank you," he walked forward, into the elevator, the doors closing behind him.  
  
The elevator lurched as it started upward, but Nate could feel something was wrong with this. With this girl no longer hooked to the system, she could no longer give him information on what lay ahead. He was, for all tactical purposes, flying blind. But he knew they knew what he knew, by cloning this girl in his arms, they have a mix of his and her abilities; they now had a suitable pilot for the Daedalus. There was the annoying ding sound, and the doors opened, to a corridor full of armed guards.  
  
"Shit," he whirled to the side getting behind the partition between elevator and hallway.  
  
With his hands full it was obvious how long he would last, and his shield's energy reserves were running low, it probably wouldn't handle another barrage. There was more than one way out of here, but only one came to mind at the moment. He knew they were smart enough not to come in, not a single one could match him in close combat. The back of his suit ripped open, the wings opening again, circling around in front, connecting, forming a shield. The armor plating on his back was thicker than in the front, a precaution in case this happened.  
  
"Here we go," he jumped into the door and surged forward, plowing his way through the confused guards.  
  
They quickly regained their composure and leveled their guns at him, firing upon his back. Once he cleared the edge of the group, the wings swung around behind him and shielded his back as he ran. His boots ground against the floor as he rounded a corner, and was face to face with Jerry, with the Clover-droid next to him. His father lifted a small gun, designed to emit an EMP and began to squeeze the trigger. With little left to do, Nate rammed his shoulder against the wall panel next to him, it gave way to reveal a maintenance tunnel.  
  
In he went with the girl, and swiftly rounded a corner, and then another. He knew this tunnel was here, but didn't know where it went, odds were likely Jerry did know. He ground to a halt again, knowing what had to be done; it might have been a little extreme, but there was no other way. Placing the girl down, he unholstered his colt, aiming it upward, the box on top exploded outward, revealing the dynamo within. The gun began to grow, forming only a partially transformed Angel Arm, the full one wouldn't fit. Taking one last look at the girl, he retracted it, sure he would be unharmed, but about her.  
  
Instead he grabbed his sword and sliced a hole in the wall behind him, exactly where he thought he would be, the hangar. What amazing luck, the skyport was opening, and someone was returning. Opening his wings he lifted the girl and was off, rocketing to the opening in the ceiling. The plane that was descending opened two ports on the front and opened fire on them, giving Nate no other means of protection but his shield. The shots fired bounced off, but that was the limit of Nate's energy, the shield failed, but he had gotten far enough that he was up through the hole, and was now rushing up the shaft.  
  
It was about halfway up when he hit a barrier, a powerful light screen, so he burst through a window into an office. The woman working at the desk turned to look at him, cringing back in her chair. The sudden appearance freaked her out, and the wings and girl didn't help either. He stood, brushed the glass off, and wiped it off his counterpart's face, picked her up and turned to the woman.  
  
"You new here?" he asked while moving to the door.  
  
"Y-yeah," she said looking as if she were about to piss herself.  
  
"Well, don't dig too deep into what goes on here, might get in trouble," he said as he walked through the door.  
  
Looking one way, then the other, he was able to determine that he was on the thirtieth floor. The sound of footsteps filled his ears as he picked a direction and decided to take his chances. All he had to do was find a window, but with his current position near the center of the building that would be difficult. He shifted the girl over his shoulder, so as the grasp his gun. Checking it to be loaded with normal shells, he closed the chamber and continued on his way. Upon rounding another corner, there was Jerry again.  
  
"How...?" he looked over at the elevator next to his father. "Oh."  
  
"Nate, there is no need for this, just give her to me and you can go," Jerry held out his hand.  
  
"Why, with her DNA, and mine, on record here, you can make endless copies. Why are we so important?" he stepped back. "You have the two down in the freezer, they could easily take my place, and hers."  
  
"Either give her to me or I cannot guarantee the safety of Sam and Alex."  
  
Nate blinked, twice actually, then started laughing, there was no way his father would sacrifice two of his best agents. There was no way in hell that this girl was that important, unless, he was right, she was the original.  
  
"Tell me something," he gently placed her on the floor, leaning her against a cubicle wall. "Is she the original and I the copy?"  
  
"No, she's your twin, conjoint twin actually," Jerry folded his arms, he was getting impatient. "The scar on your side, the one we told you was because of a faulty kidney, that's where you were connected."  
  
"So, our merging, isn't my retrieving a part of myself, but something different?"  
  
"No, it is what you thought before."  
  
"Then what about Chaos?"  
  
"He was a failed experiment, you're DNA is slightly mutated, and can't be cloned."  
  
Nate kept one eye on his sister, and the other on Jerry, but his hand swung up, over his shoulder, and fired a round into the head of the approaching guard.  
  
"Let us go," he smiled wide, almost evilly, "or else."  
  
The gun was then pointed down, at the floor, and slowly began to grow again.  
  
"You wouldn't..."  
  
"Oh yes, I would, Daedalus is directly below us, and the resulting explosion would travel up the shaft, killing everyone in this building," the arm was half-formed by now, and already taking on the acute characteristics of his ultimate weapon. "Let us leave, and you won't be the cause of a great loss of life. You can keep tabs on us, even track us with the satellites, it won't be that hard, considering the arrangement I'm in with Alex. And if you ever need my help, you might, never know, just ask. Agreed?"  
  
Jerry's face turned a variety of colors as he contemplated this; his own son planning to kill him, himself, his sister, and everyone else in the building. He closed his eyes and opened them, taking his sweet time to answer, and all the while Nate's arm was getting bigger, and amassing more power. There wasn't much else he could do.  
  
"Um, what arrangement with Alex?" he asked, stalling for time.  
  
"I owe her a date," the green-haired assassin said simply. "Your answer, please."  
  
"Oh, right, yes I suppose you may leave, but we will be tracking you," Jerry stepped back into the elevator and the doors closed.  
  
"I guess that's my cue," he picked up the girl and started for the elevator at the other end of the hall, the one would take him to the lobby.  
  
The doors opened as he approached, and the guards inside stepped out and apart, some of them saluting him as he walked past them, into the elevator. For the second time in almost fifteen minutes, he felt the lurch. He looked down at the girl, who, amazingly, was still unconscious. Perhaps the shock of being removed from the system was too much, she probably felt like he looked. At the moment all he wanted to do was get into a nice hot shower.  
  
He hit the lobby and stepped out onto the carpet, looking over at the receptionists, who, like the woman before, cringe slightly in their chairs. His faced kept straight, he turned around and pushed open the front doors with his back. Turning back, he saw his bike was right where Clover-droid had parked it. Walking across the wide sidewalk, he placed her in front of him on the bike, so she wouldn't fall, and revved the engine a few times. People turned to look at him, it's a natural reaction, but he paid them no mind, he knew where he needed to go.  
  
=  
  
There was a knock at Sam's door, and she got up from her couch to answer it. Alex, who had arrived there with her, got up too, hoping it was who she thought it was. Sam opened the door, and there was Nate, still holding his sister in his arms. He was looking completely disheveled, his hair had fallen loose of its braid, and the back of his body suit was torn open.  
  
"Hey, mind of we come in?"  
  
"Uh, sure, come on," she stepped aside to allow his access. "So this is the girl you told us about?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He placed her on Sam's circular couch, and dropped onto the seat next to her. Alex moved up next to him, while Sam took to inspecting the girl. The first thing she noticed, and this caused her entire face to go red, was that the girl was naked beneath the coat. Quickly closing it she jumped back a bit and sat down. Nate chuckled a little, seeing her reaction.  
  
"Oh come on Sam, we're all naked beneath our clothes," he laughed a little more.  
  
"Nate, how did it go, seeing as how you're here it must have gone well, did you see Jerry, what happened to the Clover-droid?" Alex rapid-fired question at him, but she was silenced when he placed a hand over her mouth.  
  
"I'll tell you later," he said quietly, then turned back to Sam. "Mind if we use your shower?"  
  
"Huh...oh...yeah sure, upstairs, third door on the left," she replied, still a little shaken, pointing to the stairs.  
  
"Thanks," he lifted her up and started towards the stairs.  
  
"Wait, both of you?" Alex asked, somewhat confused.  
  
"Yes," he looked over at her, "what's your point?"  
  
"No point, nevermind," she waved her arms in front of her.  
  
He eyed her a little longer then turned and went for the stairs, at the moment his legs, though enhanced, felt like they were about to break. Grudgingly he made it up the stairs and started down the hall. Upon opening the door he found a very spacious bathroom, pink in color, of course, there was a shower, with almost 50 sq. ft. of floor space, and a massive hot tub. Unzipping the front of his suit, he let it fall to the floor around him, then he began pulling the coat off his sister.  
  
He carried her into the shower and started the water, turning it almost all the way up, better to get the goo that was in her hair. Grabbing some shampoo off the counter to his left, he squirted some on his hand and started to work it into her hair; thank god she was unconscious. Be that as it may, he knew she knew, somehow, what was happening to her; plus there was the small smile that played across her lips.  
  
As the water fell it his him in the face, some of it mingling with the scarlet tears that were falling from his eyes. These, though, were not tears of anger, but joy, they were free, finally free. Given that it wasn't complete freedom, he would no longer be hounded by his father, or in the shadow of his mother. He knew she would be proud of what he'd done, she was the one who told him how WOOHP could ruin a person's life.  
  
"Don't worry, it'll stop hurting soon," he whispered as he grabbed the body lotion.  
  
Once he was done washing her, he removed her from the shower and wrapped a couple towels around her. He then stepped back in and began washing himself. It took far less time than washing her, seeing as how he had much less hair, and didn't have to be so careful with the scrubbing. Finishing up he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.  
  
"Well, we might as well get started," he span around and saw her standing there, in the nude.  
  
"Might as well," he replied as long strips of metal lifted from his arms, revealing several plugs, ten in all.  
  
Her fingers began to extend, reaching outward to him, the ends inserting themselves into his arms. There was a slight pain as a long protrusion erupted from his palm, connecting with a plug that had appeared in her palm. His abdomen opened to reveal a large number of cables, which uncoiled to plug into the many plugs which had pushed through her back. And, finally, the armor plates beneath his chest opened, and out pushed a single cable, which whipped around behind her and connected to the plug at the base of her brain. Her hair wrapping around the cable to keep it out of the way.  
  
"Ready?" he asked.  
  
"Mmhmm," she nodded.  
  
Slowly she began moving towards him, the cables between them getting shorter as she did so. She turned around as she moved, and soon her back was pressed against his front. Her head was pulled against his chest, and her neck disappeared as her back was being drawn into his abdomen. The front of his legs opened, and cables extended from each one to wrap around hers as they were merged into one. Her arms acted much the same as her legs, getting wrapped in the cords that connected them. Soon she was completely engulfed, and the armor plating closed where there were still parts of her showing.  
  
"Ah," he dropped to his hands and knees.  
  
Quickly realizing what had happened, he stood and moved to gather his suit and coat. It was strange having her inside his mind, but this time it was different, it was like she was there, but unconscious again. He could feel her mind inside his own, but decided to leave her be for now; she needed to rest. He was just pulling his coat on when there was a knock on the door. Upon opening it, he saw Alex, an odd look on her face. Cocking his head a little he looked down at her.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you all right, you've been up here for more than an hour," she said as her eyes traversed the room, trying to see where the girl went.  
  
"I'm fine, never felt better."  
  
"That's great, but, uh, where's she go?"  
  
"She's inside," he placed a hand on his chest.  
  
"Oh, well, I was wondering..."  
  
"Yes, I talked to Jerry, I've been let go," he answered her question before she could finish.  
  
"That's great, but I was wondering where you wanted to go for dinner tonight," she giggled, leaving him looking stupid.  
  
"Oh, right, you choose, I guess," he said as he turned on the fan to remove the moisture. "I've never had much chance for eating out."  
  
"Okay, I know this great place that'll be just perfect," she almost squealed in that childlike manner she had.  
  
The part of the suit that covered his hands receded back as he placed it on her head. After ruffling her hair slightly he walked by her and down the hall, and Alex could have sworn his hips were moving more than normal. But she just shook her head and put it outside her mind, then she noticed his hair was a little longer. Deciding not to think about it too much, she just shrugged and followed.  
  
'Monica, is this how it's supposed to feel?' he asked himself.  
  
'I'm not sure, maybe,' she replied.  
  
TBC  
  
I have to stop there, I just can't keep going. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter, first my computer went down (the stairs), then a whole row of keys on my laptop stopped working, and I tried to use notepad and wordpad on the spare computer, but kept getting these weird symbols. Oh well, it may be a month late, but I had my reasons, technical difficulties and the lot. But, hey, I got a new computer, and will hopefully have the next chapter up by the middle of August, maybe sooner. Oh, and some parts of the next chapter will be written by my girlfriend, she's much better at mushy love scenes than I am, so keep that in mind. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies 

Here it is, new chapter, finally. Sorry for the long wait, I've been working on things. 

" " - speech 

' ' - thought 

( ) - author's notes 

The Assassin: WOOHP Files 

Chapter 8 

By Nate and Felicia

* * *

Nate sighed as Sam threw some more clothes at him, and pushed him into the dressing room. He ran the events of the day over in his head, from his return to WOOHP this morning, to his merging at Sam's house, to he and Alex discussing where to go tonight, and it brought him here, clothes shopping. For the umpteenth time that afternoon he pulled the gaudy clothing on, looking himself over in the mirror. 

'Way to Christmassy,' he thought as he turned and stepped out, ready for inspection. 

Sam placed a hand on her chin, eyes cocked in seriousness as she looked him over. She stepped round and round him, pulling this and tweaking that, and, after about five minutes, pulled the red turtleneck off him, throwing it on the "NO" pile. After telling him to sit and wait, she left him there to find a different outfit. Sighing, again, he sat down on the bench, shirtless, and in just his baggy pants. 

"Here, I found something that might be just what we're looking for," she returned with a gray/brown blazer, with a tan polo shirt, and slate gray slacks. 

He took the clothing without a word and stepped back in the dressing room. The usual second thoughts were beginning to drift into his head, there were better things he could be doing. But, as always, the main thought of seeing Alex sad pushed those thoughts down. There was something about seeing a girl sad that just made him want to make things right for them. It must have been some sort of a flaw in his neural net, or the positron relays that connected one part of his brain to another. Whatever it was, there was no time to rectify it now. 

'Maybe it's just your conscience catching up to you,' there was her voice again. 

'Monica, just go back to sleep,' he took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, it didn't look too bad, better than the first five hundred outfits. "Maybe if I..." 

He pulled the ring from the end of his hair and let it fall loose, a green cascade of follicles flowing down his back. After fussing with it a little, adjusting his bangs and the position of it, he stepped out to face the music. The inquisitive look on Sam's face to his new hairstyle was a little unexpected, but she still seemed pleased with her handiwork. 

"You know, it doesn't look too bad," she reached up and gently pulled a few hairs over his shoulder. "Perhaps if we just cut it a little bit..." 

"No way, you are not messing with my hair," he stepped away, placing his hands over the luxurious, emerald locks. "I asked you for advice on what to wear, not what to do with my hair." 

"Alright, alright, just change back into your normal clothes while I go pay for these," she gestured to the clothes with a small tug at the collar of the blazer. 

Nothing else needed to be said as he stripped the clothes from his body right there in the open, handing them to the redhead in front of him. For the third time in almost five minutes he stepped back into the dressing room, this time clad in only boxers. He pulled his pants on first, then stepped back out while still pulled on the tank. While lacing up his boots, a young blonde walked up to him, poking at the top of his head. 

"Was that your girlfriend?" she asked in a very, _very_ annoying voice, the kind that just grates on your nerves. "You could do better." 

"She's not my girlfriend, just my personal fashion critic," he said in a tired voice, the day was beginning to catch up with him now. "And I don't really think I could find anyone better than her." 

His head tilted up, taking in the almost obscene amount of cleavage displayed before him, and continued up towards the doe brown eyes that seemed to be flickering with some sort of rage. It was a stupid, and immature, idea to think that a person could be so jealous over something as inane as the person helping him dress. This was absurd, he did not have time for this. So, standing somewhat abruptly, he nearly knocked the young woman on her ass, had she not lifted herself up from her bent over position as soon as he had done so. 

"That outfit she picked out, it is sooooooo last season, you should go with something more upbeat, more modern." 

"To be honest, missy, I could care less," he turned from her to grab the ring left in the dressing room, before leaving the area to find Sam at the registers. 

A smirk came to his lips when he heard the girl yell some sort of obscenity involving his jewels and a butcher knife. He'd honestly like to see her try what she'd just described in horrid detail. But, for the moment, a light chuckle escaped his lips as he stepped up next to his fellow spy. She seemed startled that he had appeared there so suddenly, but didn't let him see it. 

"So, are we ready here?" he asked. 

"Just about, it should just a take a second with the credit card," she replied as she whipped out the little piece of plastic. 

"Good, 'cause I wanna get the hell out of here," he said with a curious bit of aloofness in his voice. "It's too stuffy, and crowded." 

"Crowded places have never seemed to bother you before." 

"That's because in those places people tend to move a little faster." 

"Yeah, this place is slow, but not as slow as it is around the holidays," she smiled as she handed the credit card to the woman over the counter. 

He thought it over a second, having never been outside of WOOHP during the holidays. Except for that one time, when he had assassinated a foreign diplomat at a Christmas party. A bit of poison in the man's drink was all that was needed; they all thought he had died from alcohol poisoning. It was technically true, but he had only had two glasses of wine, and, supposedly, had a stronger constitution than that. 

'Idiot never saw it coming,' he smirked inwardly, but allowed a smile to show on the outside.

* * *

Later that night, a green motorcycle pulled into the parking lot of a very high-class restaurant. He went right by the valets, finding himself a nice parking spot, and stepped off. Once he had placed his helmet into the storage bin, and had his coat under one arm, he proceeded to the entrance. One of the valets stopped him, pointing towards the bike. 

"Sweet ride, man," he said with an ignorant smile on his face. 

"Thanks, built 'er myself," Nate quipped back, pushing the boy aside and entering. 

He stepped into the large entry hall, where people were sitting quietly on benches and chairs, waiting for an open table. The receptionist, a tall, shapely woman, waved him over, while looking down the list. 

"Sindel, right?" she asked. 

"Yes?" 

"She's expecting you, window table in the corner," she pointed in the general direction. 

"Thank you," he nodded and started towards the table. 

'God, look at that hair,' the receptionist sighed briefly before getting back to work. 

Nate found the table easily, sitting across from Alex, who appeared to be wearing a pink, strapless dress. He couldn't see the rest of it, but knew he would; all he had to do was wait. She smiled up at him, and he smiled back, neither really knowing how to start the conversation. 

"You're late," she said in mock arrogance. 

"Felicia never seemed to mind that I was late," he grumbled a little, no really picking up on her tease. 

"Who is Felicia, you've mentioned her a few times before," Alex asked as she placed her elbows on the table, and her chin in her hands. 

"That's not important." 

"But she was important, to you at least, please tell me about her," her pleading eyes were too much. 

"She was...that is to say..." he couldn't figure how to word just what Felicia had been; he loved her, how could he put it into words. "Should I just start at the beginning?" 

"Go ahead." 

"I met her at a carnival when I was fifteen. She had been very much like you back then; happy, carefree, never letting the hardships of her life get her down; she was everything I wanted to be, and it wasn't long before I was spending more time with her, and less time at WOOHP. That was when Jerry had enacted the chaperone program. Now I wasn't allowed anywhere outside of WOOHP without an escort. She started asking questions about the people following me, and I told her they were just bodyguards; she said that was cool, and left it at that," he looked out the window, at the cars going by, and the people on the sidewalk. 

"She was so beautiful, so free, so wonderful in the way she could just brighten everyone's day. I loved her with all my being, Alex; I loved her more than life itself, and was gladly going to leave WOOHP for her. But, as things go, Jerry found out about my little scheme, and arranged for her little accident. Three years ago, exactly three years after we had met, he sent her a note saying that I wanted to meet her at the pier. Like the sweet, trusting girl she was, she had gone, only to be gunned down by one of WOOHP's assassins." 

Looking down, he allowed a small, red tear to escape his left eye. He wasn't going to tell her the whole truth, the truth that he had been the one to pull the trigger, to kill the one thing in his life that made him happy. It was that which had been tearing a hole in him for the past three years, leaving him empty and heartless to his enemies. He had been faking all the kindness over the years, until he met those three spies. 

"What happened after that?" 

"After that I devoted myself fully to being the best assassin in the world, but I always wonder what would have happened had she not been killed. I would have gladly stopped seeing her, if only to save her life. I would have told her it was all over, that we could never see each other again, just to keep her from harm," he looked at the glass of water in front of him, at the ice within it, and pushed it away from him. "Where the hell is the waiter?" 

A few seconds later the waiter appeared, handing them both a menu, and, after checking both their ages, quickly snatched the wine list from the table. Nate groaned when that was gone, wishing he'd left it, some wine would have gone quite nicely with the steak he was planning on ordering. No matter, he would just have to do with soda for now, wine later. 

They ordered when the waiter came back, then really set down in their chairs and started talking. Alex did most of it, telling him about all the different missions the three had been on, her home life, her mother and father, who had passed away the previous year. He just sat and listened, nodding his head when needed, and adding a comment if he felt it was necessary. There was no doubt that she wanted to hear about his life before meeting her, but it was all too simple to explain. His home life and history could never compare to hers, and the way she spoke of her mother, words could not describe how much he could tell she loved her. This feeling caused him to look away when the subject was brought up. 

"She's dead, that's all there is to it, a failed experiment," he wiped a red tear from his eyes, "just another statistic." 

"No, she had to have been more than that, no one is just another number," she moved over one seat to the right at the small, round table, taking his hands in hers. "Please, tell me what you believe she was." 

"She was my mother, the most influential person in my entire life, what else is there to tell. She was WOOHP's best assassin before she died, and I could only dream to match her record of kills," he sighed and halfheartedly tried to pull his hands away, but lacked the actual want to do so. "Jerry had always told me that I was just like her, my hair, my eyes, the way I thought, but I never really cared much about what the old man said. After what he did, I vowed to never forgive him." 

"What do you mean, are you talking about Felicia?" she asked, her hands holding tighter to his. 

"Yes, but there are other reasons, but I doubt you want to hear about them," he laughed a tired laugh, trying to find the energy to at least finish the date. 

"No please, tell me," she held his hands tighter, the beginning of tears forming in her eyes. 

This action took Nate by complete surprise, why would she want to know, why would anyone care to know? His muscles tensed and relaxed, fingers curled into fists, and eyes closed slowly. He released the breath held in his chest, eyes opened, and hands were pulled from hers. It was her eyes that were bothering him, the tears threatening to fall, the concern held within them, concern for him. 

"Alex," he said quietly, turning away from her, "he killed my mother." 

"What?" her chair moved back as she recoiled. "But, why would Jerry do that?" 

"I don't know, all I know is what's on the disc the clone gave me," he thought of the disc, that small zipdisc which contained the vid-file and Natalie's log entries. "He killed her, and that only gives me another reason to hate him." 

Now it was Alex's turn to be taken aback, she'd never heard anyone speak like that about their parent. Sure, she had heard Clover and Sam rant about their mothers, but knew, deep down, that they didn't mean it. He was different, he had much better reasons that just being grounded. His life had been so full of death, and not just those he had killed, but those who had been close to him that lost their lives. 

"I understand," she dropped her head and concentrated on her shuffling feet. "I can't hate Jerry, not like you, and I can't say I ever will, but I can promise that I will be more cautious." 

"That's all I can ask," he smiled a little. "You don't even know what to be cautious of, do you?" 

"Well, not really, it just seemed like the right thing to say," she smiled wide and placed her hand on the back of her head. 

"It's getting cold," he said. 

"What?" 

"Your chicken, it's getting cold," he looked across the table at her forgotten plate, seeing as how his was already empty. "Better just get it wrapped and bring it home." 

She turned to him, having looked at her plate, and blushed, to which his smile widened a little. Shifting her seat felt like the right thing to do, but she didn't do it, deciding to stay where she was. As they sat there, his hands having been taken back into hers, the waiter came back and took their plates, leaving the dessert menu behind. Nate picked it up and handed to Alex, forcing her to remove her hands. 

"You've eaten here before, what's good?" 

"Oh, the tiramisu, you've got to try it," she almost squealed. 

"Alright," he turned and snapped his fingers for the waiter. 

He arrived, looking somewhat annoyed at being called with such a gesture, but kept quiet about it. Nate, reading the man's body language, could only smile as he told him their order. The snooty (did I mention he was snooty, oh well) waiter could only snatch the menu away and leave. Alex giggled a little at the way the waiter was acting, the noise only causing him to turn up his nose as he walked. 

"So, what is tiramisu?" 

"I'm not sure, exactly, but I know you're gonna love it." 

"Okay, I trust you." 

The dessert arrived a few minutes later, being placed between them, by a waitress. It took Nate a few seconds to realize it was the receptionist, and he began wondering why. A quick look around after she left led him to find the waiter working at the entrance. He cocked an eyebrow at that, but was brought back as he saw, in his peripheral vision, Alex holding up a fork with some of the tiramisu on it. 

"Try it," she insisted, and placed the cake (I'm guessing it's cake) in his open mouth. "Good?" 

"Very," he said after swallowing. "I don't think I've ever had anything this good." 

"Told you." 

"Yeah, you did," he smiled as he allowed her to serve him another piece. 

They took turns, him feeding her, her feeding him, they went back and forth until it was gone. Nate sat back in his chair, not really noticing that one of his hands was, once again, being held by Alex. Slowly his other hand slid through his hair, trying to think of what to say; he knew he was supposed to say something, but what was it? 

"Do you have a ride?" he finally fully noticed his hand in hers. 

"No, Sam dropped me off," she shook her head, and blushed again as she let go of his hand. 

"Well, then I guess I'll take you home."

* * *

The motorcycle pulled up in front of Alex's house, and Nate put down the kickstand. Stepping off, he took the helmet that Alex handed him, as well as the leather jacket, he then stuffed them into the cargo hold. He then helped her off the bike and was about to get back on when she grabbed his arm. 

"Aren't you going to walk me to the front door?" she asked, giving him an innocent pout. 

"I..." he started but made the fatal mistake of looking at her eyes, and he was dumbstruck, "...I guess it would be the proper thing to do." 

She smiled and they started up the walk to the door, beyond which he knew Sam and Clover were watching. He couldn't fully comprehend how it happened, but that look on her face, he didn't know why it affected him like that. This didn't make sense, he wasn't supposed to feel like this anymore, he was only keeping a promise to make her happy, wasn't he? He hated to see any girl cry, but Alex was different, he felt, at that moment, he would have given just about anything to make her feel the best she'd ever felt. But, still, the question haunted him: why? 

'You know, it could be love,' Monica whispered in his mind's ear. 

'Can't be, I'm just getting soft.' 

'Just keeping that option open,' she giggled. 

"Well?" Alex piped up next to him. 

He whipped his head around, looking down at her, not even realizing that they were at the door. His sister was making this harder than it had to be, having never had a voice inside his head before. Besides that, there were the resurfacing memories of Felicia, of the first time he had done this with her. It was too hard to do this again, but why wasn't he leaving. 

"Well what?" 

"Aren't you going to kiss me good night?" 

"I wasn't planning on it," he said, then leaned in close, whispering, "but, luckily for you, I'm feeling generous." 

With that said, he lightly kissed her on the cheek, and stood up straight again, leaving her standing there with a slight blush. From behind the door there came an audible sigh, and an 'awwwww' which sounded both disappointed and dreamy at the same time. He smiled a little and started back towards his bike, waiting for the door to open and close, which it did. Getting back on, he revved the engine a few times and took off. 

Inside the house, Clover and Sam were there to grab her and pull her to the couch. 

"How was it?" she asked. 

"Yeah, come on Alex, dish dish," Clover chimed from next to the redhead.

* * *

After a few days of freely walking around LA, Nate was content in letting Monica take over for a little while, let her stretch her legs. She wore exactly what he wore, except that the shifter clothing had tailored itself to her body. Being slimmer, and somewhat more buxom than her brother, the suit and coat fit snuggly, accentuating her generous curves. At the moment, though, those curves were obscured by a bag of groceries. 

"I still don't see why I had to do the shopping," she said as she fished in the bag for an apple. 

'I would tell you, but you already know,' Nate chuckled back. 

"Yeah, yeah, I look cute," she sighed quietly as she found the object of her search. 

She looked around, noticing some of the looks she was getting from people. It wasn't just the clothes she was wearing, but the fact that she was just shy of six feet tall. Practically an Amazon compared the girls she passed on the street, hardly any of them topping 5'6", and that was with the heels. A smile tugged at her lips when one girl slapped her boyfriend for staring. 

'Really, how can she blame him?' Nate asked. 

"Can't argue with that," she laughed a little. 

'Just don't start striking poses, okay?' 

"Fine, ruin all my fun." 

Her brother sighed inside her mind, and settled back to rest, the change in bodies had taken a bit more energy out of him than it had her. Leaving him be, she entered the building to her left, in which was the apartment that WOOHP had set up for them. She waved to the doorman and entered the elevator, rising to the _almost_ top floor. 

The apartment wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. There were four rooms, the living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. In the living room was a fairly decent-sized TV, with entertainment center, and against the wall across from it was a couch. There was a balcony outside the sliding door, which looked out over the ocean. She entered the kitchen, which had a small window into the living room and put the groceries in the fridge. 

"Well, that's done, what to do now?" she asked herself, knowing that Nate was asleep. "Hm, I guess I could go for a walk, maybe I'll see Sam at the library." 

She started for the door, but, before heading out, she had the shifter clothing create a holster, and grabbed the revolver off the table. With that done, she holstered the weapon and stepped out the door, locking it behind her. It was strange to her that she took it, without really thinking, but she felt she needed to have it at all times. 

'What do you want me to do with this?' she asked herself, though the question was directed more towards her sleeping brother.

* * *

Monica spent the rest of the day window-shopping; looking at all the women's clothing that she knew wouldn't fit. Didn't stop her from going into one store and asking the saleswoman how much it would cost to get a certain outfit in her size. After giving the girl her measurements, she watched as she bit her lower lip with a slight hiss sound. It was certainly much more than either of them would have thought. But Monica simply shrugged and left, knowing all along that the clothing she wore now would easily be able to shift into that pantsuit. 

There wasn't much else to do as she strolled along, constantly having to wince at the eyebrows being waggled in her general direction. One of those idiots actually stepped up to her, and said he "liked 'em tall." She shoved her hand in his face, and gently moved him aside, so she could continue forward. He yelled something about her regretting turning him down, and she just shrugged it off. There were so many annoyances in this city, and once or twice she could feel her hand moving towards her sidearm. 

But, through all the hustle and bustle, her senses were not impaired in the least, as her ears picked up a muffled voice from an alley. Turning down said alley, she found that it doglegged to the left, behind the building. The muffled voice was female, and definitely sounded familiar, she knew that either herself or Nate had heard it before. And there was another voice with it, rougher, most definitely male. Rounding the corner, she saw the man standing over a girl, who was sitting on some garbage and looked thoroughly beaten. In one hand was a purse, in the other was a butterfly knife, which he had most-likely just used to cut her shirt open. 

Almost broiling with rage, she took one heavy step forward, alerting him to her presence. He turned and scoffed at the tall woman behind him, a smirk coming to his lips. 

"Hey, babe, don't worry, there's enough to go..." 

He never got to finish as Monica had wrapped her hand around his throat, and unholstered the revolver, favoring to aim it at the side of his head. The force of her rush forward had lifted the mugger from the ground, and slammed him against the wall behind the girl, causing him to drop the purse, but not the knife. He lashed out at her with it, cutting her arm several times, and just managing to graze her face. The sleeve for the coat slit up the middle as a long blade sliced through her skin, taking his hand off. 

"Now, you have two choices," she growled, tightening her grip on his throat, "you can either die here like the slime you are, or you can go and turn yourself in to the police. What's it gonna be?" 

To emphasize her point, she cocked the hammer on the gun. His eyes were open **WIDE** now, looking from his severed hand, to her face, then to the side, where the gun was pressed to his head. While he was taking his sweet time, Monica decided to check up on the girl's condition. 

"You okay, kid?" she asked sweetly. 

The girl, who had black hair, with an almost purple sheen to it, was too shocked to speak, opting to only nod. Her rescuer then turned her attention back to the mugger, who had apparently pissed himself when the gun was cocked. His eyes were open even wider now as the blade that had cut his hand off, was sliding back into position, in her arm. Loosening her grip on his throat, she allowed him to speak. 

"Please, don't do this, I beg you," he sobbed, the tears only making him look more pathetic. 

"No," was her simple answer as she twisted her hand to the side, the speed of it snapping his neck at the top and bottom, making it look as if his head and body never moved. 

She dropped him to the ground and turned her gaze to the girl, who was shivering at the vision of the dead body before her. Then the girl did something that caught Monica completely by surprise; she literally threw herself at the older woman, arms wrapping around her knees, and tear-streaked face buried into the trench coat. The assassin looked down at her, holstering her revolver and blending the sleeve back together. 

"Uh, there, there, it's okay," she said a bit hesitantly, patting the girl's head. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she girl cried over and over. 

"Um, so, what's your name?" 

"Mandy Delaroyale," she sniffed, looking up at the woman in front of her, eyes lingering a bit too long (I hope you don't mind Devin, I was at a loss for a last name). "What's yours?" 

"Monica," the green-haired amazon said, helping her to her feet. "Monica Sindel." 

"What can I do to repay you, and I'm not taking no for an answer." 

"A drink would be fine," she replied, feeling thirsty all of a sudden. 

"Unacceptable, I insist that we find you something new to wear, those clothes are..." she looked up at the confused face of the woman before her. "A drink it is, then maybe we can get to talk?" 

"Great, I know a little coffee shop not far from here," Monica grabbed Mandy's hand, and was about to lead her out of the alley, when she noticed something. "You should probably button up that jacket." 

"Or, better yet, we can head to my house, I need to wash up," she ran her fingers through her dingy hair, and brushed off her ripped, garbage-splattered clothing, "and change, you can grab a drink there." 

"Okay, I guess that would be okay."

* * *

About an hour later, Monica sat in a large kitchen, the gleaming white surfaces all around her almost blinding her. In front of her, on the oak table, was a half-drunk Diet Coke, it was the only thing in the fridge, and she adamantly compared it to brown, crap-water. But she was thirsty, and that overrode just about all other thoughts in her head. Her head swiveled around, from staring at the can, to the hallway, following the sound of footsteps. Mandy entered, wearing a fluffy white robe, with a towel wrapped around her head, and slippers on her feet. She took the seat across from the green-haired beauty. 

"So, tell me, why do you disguise your voice?" Monica asked as she ran her finger around the rim of the can. 

"Wh-what do you mean?" Mandy looked around, trying to figure out how a complete stranger knew. 

"Well, it is obvious, your voice just sounds so strained," she lifted the can to her lips, and shuddered slightly when she swallowed. "Why do you fake it?" 

"I don't know, I guess its somewhat to keep people from getting too close," the raven-haired girl cast her eyes down, voice changing, becoming more mature. "To keep...her...from getting too close." 

"Tell me about 'her,'" Monica leaned forward, trying to catch Mandy's eye. "You just blushed when you thought of her, so who is she?" 

"Well, we were friends, up until high school, when we found that the simplicity of junior high was gone, and the popularity system was completely different," she looked up at the woman across from her. "We started drifting apart, until, one day, we both went for the same guy, and we started screaming at each other. But that's not how it was supposed to happen." 

"Why, how was it supposed to happen?" 

"I was going to tell _her_ how I felt, I mean how I _really_ felt, but...he got in the way," she sighed, thinking of the boy that had recently disappeared. "David, he was the love of both our lives, but I never really cared for him, only for her." 

"Does she have a name?" 

"Clover," Mandy seemed to absolutely melt when she said that name; that one single word carrying so much emotion, so much meaning, it was now easy to see that Mandy was truly tortured inside over that girl. 

TBC 

There we go, sorry for taking so long, it would have been up two weeks ago, but the disc I was using deleted all the files that were on it, including the original version of this. So Felicia and I reconstructed this one from bits and pieces of what we remember, hope you liked it, don't forget to review. I told you Devin, I told you that I would get to the Clover/Mandy part, given that it's just starting now. Our deal is now complete, sorry for taking so long to keep up my end of the bargain. There will be more of it next chapter, and some violence, maybe some sex, Felicia and I are debating that now.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies 

The Assassin: WOOHP Files 

Chapter 9 

By Nate Sindel

* * *

Over the next few days Monica had gotten to know Mandy as much more than just a passing acquaintance. She was something that the woman was confident she could call a friend. The girl was actually fairly cute, when she didn't use that screeching voice she always spoke with to other people. Then there was the fact that this teenager was in love, in love with another girl, a girl who hated her with every fiber of her being. 

At the moment it was Saturday, and, instead of being at the library, Monica was lying by the pool behind Mandy's house. She knew that Sam, possibly even Alex, was there waiting for her brother to show up; it was a rather foolish thing to do now. The mere thought of going back to that place made him sick, and, by extension, that gave Monica an express reason not to go. Not that she didn't want to see Alex, there were just too many things that came to mind if she saw her; namely, what questions Alex would be asking. 

But that was besides the point at the moment, this was Mandy's time with her, a time when they could just lounge around and forget about things that could never be. 

"So, how do you plan to go about getting Clover?" Monica asked Mandy, almost completely destroying the calm moment. 

"I don't know, I've tried telling her, but it always comes out as some snide remark," the raven-haired girl sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. 

"Maybe you should suggest that you two kiss and make up," she giggled, gaining a half-hearted chuckled from her companion. 

"If only it were that simple," Mandy looked over at the woman lying on her stomach, hair trailing over the armrest of the lawn chair, spilling onto the patio, to soak up the sun. "Want me to put some sunscreen on your back?" 

"No thanks, my skin doesn't burn," she readjusted her head on the arms folded beneath it. 

"And why is that?" she asked. 

"It would be better for your health to not know," Monica yawned as she rolled over, chuckling a little at Mandy's ogling of her chest. "Besides, it's not really important right now." 

Mandy let it slide, she knew this was someone who she couldn't be too pushy with; watching what she did to that mugger was enough reason. She felt odd, content, and she had a feeling it was because of this woman. Monica was the first person she could call a real friend, someone who wasn't interested in her because of what it could do for her reputation, or her money, or to get closer to certain guys; she didn't need any of it. 

Given that it had been Mandy to invite her over, and to be asking the questions, and to be satisfied with the answers. She had realized the moment they met that this woman wasn't one of her high school cronies; she was nothing like those who had tried to mimic her; those girls were an ego-booster though. 

"Monica?" 

"Hm?" her eyes were closed, nanomachines in her "skin" working together to give the appearance of a tan. 

"Can you answer just one of my questions?" 

"Which question, you must have so many," eyes opened, and she sat up. 

"I just want to know how you did that with your arm, when we met," Mandy's eyes were turned away from the small smile on her guest's face. 

"This?" the skin on her forearm was sliced open, and the blade made itself known. 

The first thing Mandy noticed was that there was no blood. The second thing she noticed was the lack of pain on Monica's face, she was calm, the smile still on her lips. Lastly, the blade and strut were moving on their own, with no help from whom it was attached to. It twisted and turned this way and that before settling back into its place within her arm. 

"Yeah, that." 

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain," she looked from Mandy to her arm, the skin moving and sealing itself back up. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise to never speak of it to anyone else." 

"And if I do..." 

"I'm afraid I'd have to kill you." 

Mandy nodded, and Monica slowly reached up to a spot just below her shoulder, gripping her bicep tightly. With a quick twist, and a yank, she pulled her arm right off, skin separating easily to allow this. A needle about three inches still connected her arm to her shoulder, but that was easily released from its slot. With it fully detached, she held the arm up for Mandy's inspection. 

"I was in an accident a few years ago, my arms had been completely mangled, and there was no chance of fixing them," she sighed, placing the arm on the small table next to her drink. "So, my father being the rich bastard that he is, offered to pay for the experimental replacements." 

This was, of course, a lie, a lie to protect Mandy from what would happen to her if she knew the truth. This, though, didn't stop her from walking over to get a closer look. She attempted to lift it, but found that it weighed far too much; this caused Monica to chuckle. 

"It weighs just under two-hundred pounds," she shook with silent laughter, "so don't strain yourself." 

Mandy let go of the arm, and settled with just prodding it in various places, to which Monica would tell the arm to jerk and wiggle. The younger girl probably would have screamed in delight if she had been just a few years younger, but Mandy just poked harder. This continued until the arm jerked to life, grabbing Mandy's wrist, and weighing her arm down to the table. 

"Hey!" she jumped back, or at least she tried. "Let go of me!" 

"Hehe, it doesn't like being poked so hard," Monica continued her chuckling as she had the arm release it's captive. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Mandy sighed as she massaged her wrist. "Bet that thing can give one hell of an indian burn." 

"You have no idea."

* * *

Later that day, at the previously mentioned library, Sam was pouring over book after book on nano-technology. Given that there were few books about it at this particular library, being such a new science and such, she had grabbed them all. Across the table from her sat Alex, reading some fashion magazine or whatnot. She looked somewhat anxious, always glancing at the door, her fingers lightly drumming on the magazine cover. 

"Isn't he usually here by now?" she asked. 

"Usually," Sam quipped, glancing momentarily at her watch. 

"Well where is he?" 

"I don't know, Alex," the redhead almost snapped, then calmed. "Just give up on him Alex, I'm pretty sure he's long gone. You could have gone with Clover to the mall, checked out some guys, maybe even bought a few new pairs of shoes." 

"You're probably right, I mean, he has no more ties to WOOHP, so he's probably not even in California anymore," Alex put her magazine down, her voice dejected. 

Sam suddenly realized she'd made a big error in what she said, instead of it helping her friend it just seemed to shoot down her last hopes. Alex hadn't been the same since the last time she had seen him; the fact that he was ignoring her calls, not returning her messages and e-mails, and pretty much doing everything he could to ignore her had dawned on her long ago. It seemed he wanted nothing to do with the three of them anymore, but, even through all this, she had remained determined to see him again. 

"I'm sorry Alex, I didn't mean to put you down, it's just that there's the huge test on Monday, and I haven't been able to properly study with all the nonstop missions we've been having," Sam attempted to apologize, but Alex waved her quiet. 

"It's not you Sam, it's me, I should just move on, I mean, what are the chances of us seeing him again?" she stood as she spoke. "Just like a billion to one, and it's my fault, if I just hadn't asked so many stupid questions..." 

Sam wasn't paying attention, opting to look over Alex's shoulder. 

"Alex, remember how you said it was a one in a billion chance...?" she inquired quietly. 

"Yeah, why?" she looked confused, until Sam pointed over her shoulder. 

"You know, stupid questions are the only way to find out things that people don't want you know," that voice, the voice that was so familiar, that haunted Alex's dreams and fantasies. 

She turned around and there he was, in all his trench-coated glory, a florescent light behind him bathing his head in halo of light. His hair shone in the light, almost sparkling in its luminescence; he still had not placed it back in the braid. Neither of them knew why; it was more manageable in tight spots to not have it flying around, even Sam knew that. 

"Hi," Alex chirped. 

"Where's Clover?" he asked in a flat voice, a voice that seemed to suck all the "happy" out of the air. 

"What do you want with her?" Alex retorted. 

"I have a message to deliver, so I'd appreciate it if you told me where she was," his tone of voice hadn't changed, and neither had the hard look in his eyes. 

"Depends on who..." the brunette started, but was interrupted by Sam. 

"She's at the mall," she said, not even looking up from her book. "Who's the message from?" 

"Mandy," he raised his eyes from Alex to Sam, a questioning look marring his stern expression. 

"What's the message?" 

"Sorry, that's for her ears only," he tore his eyes away from them and headed for the exit. 

Alex dropped back into her seat when he did, and turned her gaze back to Sam, who had looked up from her book. Her head kept jerking towards the retreating assassin's back, a silent message to go after him. They both knew he would hear her say it, so she was giving Alex permission in a nonverbal way. She got up and ran for the door, which was just closing, and ran outside. 

Nate was already halfway down the front steps when Alex caught up to him. He looked down at her, and she turned a smiling face back up at him. The hard expression on his face softened as he saw her like that; it never failed with her, to see her happy could make anyone feel better. Heaving a sigh, he smiled a little, directing his face forward again, toward the mall. 

"You really are so like her," he said in a nonchalant voice. 

"Who?" 

"Felicia, she'd always been able to brighten my day, no matter what had happened," he looked up at the clouds, they really did start to look like things after a while. "Even if I was covered in blood, my blood, she would just patch me up, no questions asked." 

"But, I thought you didn't have blood?" 

"I did, back when some of me was still flesh and...well...blood," he chuckled a little, casting a glance around to make sure they were relatively alone. 

Grasping the collar of his coat, he tugged it, feeling the shifter clothing pull itself back into the tank top beneath it. This tank top was the kind that didn't have a full back to it, but just a single strap about two inches wide down the middle, exposing his shoulder blades. This way, if he needed his wings, it wouldn't tear his shirt apart. 

"What are you made of now?" 

"That's something that has nothing to do with you," he said with hint of finality. 

"Okay, is there something we can talk about that doesn't involve stupid questions?" Alex asked meekly, with her hand on the back of her head. 

"Lovely day," he suggested, keeping an eye on her expression. 

She looked around, they were currently in a park, where the birds were chirping, bees were buzzing, people were playing with their dogs, or having picnics, or just being all lovey-dovey on a bench. To be honest, it was a nice day, in this part of the city at least. Sighing a dreamy sigh, she looped her arm in his, leaning herself against his side. 

"Sure is, and I couldn't think of anyone better to spend it with," she rubbed her cheek against his arm to emphasize her answer. 

"Alex, there is something I've been meaning to tell you," he looked down at this particular thought. 

"What is it?" she perked up a little more, taking his downcast face to be embarrassment, not worry. 

"If I have to kill someone you've been assigned to protect, I just want you to know..." he paused for a second, wondering how she was going take it. "I'm not going to hold back. So I would have to suggest you stay out of the way." 

Alex whipped her head around at hearing just the first part of his statement, not really believing her ears. He had just said exactly what she had been having nightmares about. A "what if" scenario that would end with the three spies having to fight him, and even she knew what their chances of winning were. But his warning her could mean he cared, right? What he said next could confirm or deny it. 

"Don't think it's because I'm trying to protect you, Alex, I just don't want innocent people getting killed," he looked over at her, then down at her arm, which was still hooked in his. "But if you do decide to try and be the heroine, to take the bullet, just keep in mind that if it doesn't go through you and into them, I will have five more shells." 

Wrenching his arm from hers, he sped up his rate of travel, pulling away from her. Alex slowed to a halt; he had completely destroyed the moment, a moment that had seemed so perfect. She turned on her heel and fell back into a nearby bench, the wood bending momentarily under the sudden weight. Sure, she had expected him to say it sooner or later, she had just wished it would be later, instead of now. It wasn't long before tears streaked down her face as she watched him continued walking. 

"I hope it doesn't come to that," she whispered to herself.

* * *

At the mall Clover was having a fabulous time looking at just about everything she had looked at eight billion times before that very day. Always finding something new that she either liked or disliked about a certain garment. It continued to mystify the people who took the time to watch her, the way she would pick up a shirt and weigh it, even smell it like a piece of fruit at the grocery store. 

"Enjoying yourself?" 

"Yes, now go away," she snapped, not even bothering to turn around; she knew who it was. 

"I have a message for you," the voice continued, "from Mandy." 

"What, does she feel the need to insult me through a mediator now?" Clover inquired, her voice still holding that razor edge. "What does she want?" 

"She wants to say she's sorry, and would like to meet you somewhere alone to talk." 

"Are you serious, the bitch is actually apologizing?" 

A very heavy hand was placed on her shoulder at that moment, and spun her around to face him. 

"Tell me Clover, what do you have to hold against her anymore?" he got his face very close to her, almost wishing he still had saliva to spray in her face. "David is dead, and, if I'm not mistaken, he's what started all this, he drove you two apart." 

"So what if he did start this, it's not like things can just go back to the way they were before," she pulled herself away from his hand. "We've been enemies for so long, we just...don't know any other way to do this." 

"You'd be surprised," he smiled a little. "All she asks is that you hear her out." 

Clover sighed, she didn't want to do this, but if it would make him go away. Besides, Mandy seemed to be avoiding her lately, ducking out of the way when they saw each other in the halls. Normally, the blonde wouldn't give it a second thought, but this was Mandy, the girl who lived to torment her. 

"Alright, where does she want to meet?" 

"Some café, I'm not sure of the name," he motioned towards the door. "Come on." 

"But, I haven't paid for these yet." 

"Well, they'll be here tomorrow, you don't have to be the absolute first person to have something," he grabbed a pair of pants that were in the cart she had, bell-bottoms. "You could find these in your mother's closet instead of paying forty bucks for 'em." 

"What! Wear my mother's clothes, you must be joking." 

'I think I liked the robot better,' he sighed. "Fine, waste your money, I'll be in the food court when you've finished." 

Turning he started for the door, deftly weaving way through the racks without ruffling a single piece of clothing. Clover could have sworn he had been doing that all his life; he was almost as good as she was. She breathed, really breathed, for the first time since he had gotten there. Maybe it was for the best that she and Mandy bury the hatchet, their feud had been going on since high school began. 

"I did already say that I would go, and it's not like I'm doing anything else today," she dropped the clothes she was holding back on the rack and headed for the checkout. 

As she was leaving the store, Monica sidled up next to her, hands in her pockets and a curious expression on her face. Clover was about to ask where Nate went, but then remembered that they were one in the same; she really couldn't imagine having another mind inside hers (I can't see why, there's plenty of room). 

"You walk here?" the taller woman asked. 

"Yeah." 

"Good, that makes this much easier," she didn't even look at the blonde as they walked, her eyes forward, practically glaring a path for them through the crowd. "Honestly, how do you people buy so many useless articles of clothing? I mean, you'll wear it once, then never use it again." 

"Hey, I'll have you know that fads go in a circle, so those clothes will be fashionable again one day," Clover retorted, quickly glancing up at the hardened face of the amazon beside her. "Why are you here anyway, what about him?" 

"Mandy doesn't about my brother, and we had assumed his form to speak with Sam and Alex. Besides, don't you prefer having me here instead of him?" 

Clover couldn't really answer that question, since her experiences with the two of them had been different. When she thought about her experiences with Nate, what always come to mind were the dangerous situations that had often gotten into with him around. Monica was much easier to be around, seeing as how she was another female, albeit one with fashion sense as good as her brother's, and a shopping philosophy like a...a...something bad. 

But even as she harped to herself about these people, Clover could not help but notice a certain beauty about the taller woman. Her face was pure, un-augmented (or untainted, depends) by the use of makeup, and she had to admit that the clothing she wore did show off her assets to their best effect. Before too long, the blonde had found herself staring at this person, her eyes mesmerized by her flawless features. 

'I wonder what she looks like naked,' Clover thought before mentally slapping herself, she wasn't like that. 

"We might have to stop off at your house, so you can drop off all your baggage," she made a slight face when she glanced at all of the shorter - much shorter - girl's bags. "Honestly, have you ever heard of moderation?"

* * *

The bike halted next to a small street-side café, and Monica stepped off, helping Clover out of the seat, and taking the helmet given her. Looking over at the tables, she instantly spotted the one with Mandy at it, she seemed so lonely, without a guy, or those two clones. Stowing the helmets in their respective compartments, she turned to Clover, jerking her head over to the girl not too far away. 

"I am warning you now, no stupid shit, got it?" she asked, getting very close to Clover's face, and having to bend quite far to do so. 

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Clover waved her aside and started towards Mandy, who seemed to brighten a little at seeing them. 

Monica was right behind Clover, and, after making sure she was seated, the assassin stepped up behind Mandy, leaning in close. She whispered something in the girl's ear, then, just as quickly she was there, she was gone, across the lot at another table. The blonde shook her head slightly, wondering how she missed the woman's movements. Nonetheless, her attention was drawn back to Mandy, who was looking at her intently. 

"Hi," she said. 

"Hi." 

"It's been a while since we've sat like this, huh?" she had a bit of a dreamy gleam in her eyes. 

"Yeah," Clover looked at the table, not wanting to meet Mandy's gaze. "So..." 

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, trying to stave off the awkward silence she knew was coming. "I'm sorry for everything that I've done to make you hate me. Every time we met in the halls at school, I wanted to say something nice, but it just came out as something nasty. All the times we went for the same guy, all the times we went for the same thing, all I had wanted was to talk with you." 

"Mandy..." the blonde started, but was, again, cut off; Mandy wasn't finished. 

"You have no idea what it's like, to have so much expected of you, not knowing who's your friend and who's trying to get ahead. At least you have Sam and Alex, you know they're your friends," she sighed, dropping her gaze Clover to the napkin in front of her. "All I want to know is if things could go back to the way they were before, if we could be friends again?" 

"Mandy," Clover said, this time determined not to be interrupted, casting a glance at Monica, who had shifted due to her raised voice. "Look, I'm not sure that things can go back to the way they were before. I mean, we can still be friends, at school and stuff, but there's something you need to know." 

"No, it's okay, you don't have to make excuses, I understand," Mandy stood up, hints of tears in her eyes. "Don't worry, I won't bother you, or Sam and Alex, anymore." 

Before Clover could say anything, Mandy was gone, the chair she had been sitting in fell to the cement with a clatter. The part-time spy stood as well, looking around for her, but she was already out of site, swallowed up by the crowd on the sidewalk. Turning back around, she was expecting to see Monica advancing on her, but she was gone as well. 

"I'm sorry, Mandy, for everything," she sighed as she sat down. 

"Hey Clover," her head jerked up at the sound of Sam's voice. 

"Hey guys, how did you find me?" 

"We got an e-mail on our com-powders that said you were here, we figured it was Nate, and, well, here we are," Alex said as she righted the fallen chair and sat down. "How did you're meeting with Mandy go?" 

"Suffice it to say, I don't think she'll be bothering us anymore," she turned around in her seat and looked out at the street, where the motorcycle had been parked. 

"Well that's good, right?" Alex asked. 

"I suppose, it's just that..." her eyes closed as she remembered Mandy's teary-eyed look as she left. "I don't get why she had this sudden change of heart." 

"She must have gotten tired of it," Sam suggested, placing her elbows on the table, and resting her chin on the back of her hands. "Well, you two used to be friends, or so you've told us, I guess she just wants it to be like old times." 

"Yeah, but there seemed to be something different about her," Clover reopened her eyes and continued to avoid looking at the other two. 'Even her voice was changed.'

* * *

Mandy hadn't stopped running, even when she had reached the beach, which was full of people; couples, people waiting to hook up, married people with their children, and people like her, the ones that had no one. With that mindset squarely in her brain, she collapsed against the railing separating her from the sand. The tears that had welled up for so long finally sprung forth, streaking down her face, as she slowly sank to her knees. 

"Why couldn't I tell her?" she asked no one as she continued to cry, her face buried in her forearms. 

"Maybe because you weren't ready to," the newly arrived Monica said, as she placed her hand on Mandy's shoulder. "Most likely she would have called you a freak and stormed off." 

"You're probably right," the raven-haired girl sniffed back her tears and stood up. "I guess being her friend again is more important." 

"It's a step up from being considered the scum she scrapes off the bottom of her shoe," Monica suggested with a hopeful tone in her voice. "The closer you are, the easier it should be." 

Placing her arm around Mandy's shoulders, the older woman led her over to the bike. Tossing her a helmet, the emerald-haired assassin motioned for her to get on. Mandy couldn't wait to do so, practically jumping onto the seat behind Monica. 

"Come on, I'm going to show you something."

* * *

TBC 

There, I've ended the chapter, sorry for taking sooooooooo damn long this time. Things came up, and I had to take care of them; what do you want from me? More chapters, faster? Not gonna happen, I have too many stories to write to possibly have time to concentrate on one for too long. This chapter took me so long, I am expecting more reviews than usual for it. Just don't worry about the next chapter, it will progress further than just one day. 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies 

The Assassin: WOOHP Files 

... - flashback 

Chapter 10 

By Nate Sindel

* * *

"So she wanted to make up?" Sam asked as the three spies walked through the mall. 

"Yeah, it was weird," Clover sighed, not even noticing the cute guy giving her "the eye". 

"That's really unlike her," Sam continued, looking over at Alex, who was still looking slightly downcast. "Maybe she was about to confess her undying love for you." 

"Oh come on, Mandy, a lesbian, she's even more boy-crazy than I am," the blonde joked halfheartedly. 'Though, sometimes I wonder.' 

They walked in relative silence after that, after having talked for most of the afternoon they had run out of things to talk about. While most of the conversation had surrounded Mandy, they had branched out to other things. Alex had not spoken of her talk with Nate, and thought best to keep it to herself for now. There was so much to deal with now, she didn't want to burden them with something that may not even happen. 

'They don't need to know, not yet,' she thought and pushed it aside, not wanting it to bring her down even more. "Well, there were those two girls who used to follow her around...whatever happened to them?" 

"Don't know," Sam shrugged, "thought I heard a rumor that they were in a car accident." 

"We can only hope," Clover quipped, gaining a less-than-eager chuckle from the other two.

* * *

The green motorcycle sped up the California coast, sheer rocks walls on one side, and blue ocean on the other. Monica still had not told Mandy where they were going, given that the music piping in through the speakers in the helmets was drowning out any possible speech. The teen didn't mind the heavy metal being forced into her head, it was a welcome escape from the music she used to listen too. Long ago she noticed that she was only watching hip hop videos to look at the hot chicks (honestly, why does anyone watch those in the first place?). 

They passed a Route 1 sign at about 80 miles an hours, it was quite obvious that the assassin was in a hurry. The sun was slowly moving towards the ocean, the waves breaking up its reflection into a vast field of fire opals. This mixing with the blue of the ocean itself gave the appearance the opals were scattered over a carpet of sapphires. 

The two of them had been travelling for more than a day now, not much being said between them, as they had not stopped anywhere along the way. Whenever Mandy did get the urge to speak up over the music, Monica simply answered that it was a surprise. She had a feeling it involved San Francisco, though she wasn't completely sure. It somewhat surprised her when they began to slow down, pulling off to the side of the road, right across from one of the places where you can look out over the ocean. 

'Oh,' Mandy thought, given that she could have said it and not been heard. 

Monica pulled the bike off the road, onto the slightly wider shoulder/temporary parking spot. She cut the music and then the power to the bike and got off, whipping her helmet off and shaking her long, emerald hair. Mandy followed suit, but she took her helmet off slowly, having tried whipping it off before, and succeeding in nearly ripping her ear off. Monica looked over her shoulder, smiling a little as she let her coat slip off. 

After removing it completely, she draped it over the bike, and adjusted her tank top. With it off, she stretched her arms above her head, servos in her back mimicking the sounds of cracking joints. Placing her hand on Mandy's shoulder, she began leading the girl across the street to the viewing area. When they reached it, she stopped, turning to look at Mandy again. 

"It should be starting soon," she smiled a little wider. 

"What?" Mandy asked out of reflex. "We've already seen the sun set, what else could there be?" 

"I forgot, you don't read anything unless it has to do with fashion," Monica chuckled lightly. 

"Well the newspaper is boring, nothing but stuff about people I don't know, or ever will know," the girl stated firmly. 

"There's more in there than just the insignificant," she scoffed playfully, throwing a loch of hair back over her shoulder. "The comics for example." 

It was then that a small ball of light streaked over them, soon followed by another. The sun was very low now, and half the sky was dark, giving the two a perfect view of the meteor shower. There seemed to be an endless number of little lights zooming over them, disappearing in the fading glow on the horizon. Some were large, while others were small, small to the point of being almost invisible to Mandy's naked eye. Monica simply smiled while Mandy stared wide-eyed at the spectacle, it was easy to see why she was impressed. 

"So this is what you wanted to show me?" the teen asked, nearly breathless. 

"Yep, cool, huh?" the assassin's smile widened just a little bit more. 

"Yeah." 

The shower lasted another few minutes, and, with the sun finally going down, the sky appeared to glow an unearthly green. With it over, the stars could be seen to their full effect, with no light pollution to block them out. The two stood there for a long while, just staring at the stars, almost entranced by the simple beauty of them. 

"Feel better?" 

"A little, thanks," Mandy admitted, the situation with Clover was still fresh on her mind. "I better there was more than a million falling stars." 

"Actually, there was nine-hundred-eighty-three-thousand-two-hundred-fifty-four," Monica said with no thought of what Mandy might say, "give or take." 

"You're fuckin' with me, right?" 

"Nope," she smirked, "that's about how many." 

Before Mandy could continue, a drop of rain landed on her nose (good aim, hehe), and her eyes crossed to look at it. That one drop seemed to signal an entire torrent to immediately fall upon them. Looking up, she saw that the cloud was approaching from the east, giving them an unobstructed view of the stars in the west. All of a sudden, the rain falling on her stopped, but it hadn't stopped raining. Tilting her head a little further, she saw what appeared to be a wing, shielding her from downpour. Following the wing, she saw it led directly to her companion's back. 

Monica, however, was still looking forward, as if nothing was happening, a second wing sweeping up and over her own head to keep the rain away. Though her face was looking forward, her eyes were trained on Mandy, taking in the bug-eyed look on her face, the total incomprehension of what she was looking at. She almost wanted to laugh, at least chuckle, but this was not the time for that. 

"Well?" she inquired nonchalantly. 

"WELL WHAT? YOU HAVE FRICKIN' WINGS GROWING OUT OF YOUR BACK!" Mandy screeched at a near-glass shattering pitch. 

"You know how I told you I was in an accident?" 

"Yes..." Mandy nodded. "...you mean you lost more than just your arms?" 

Monica had to chuckle at that, "No, well, not exactly, there was no accident, I was part of an experiment to put a human brain in a cyber-robotic body." 

"And it was a success?" Mandy asked, again out of instinct. 

"Not the first couple times," Monica looked down, she didn't want to lie to Mandy, but there was really no other way. "I had actually died the first time - wondrous things those cloning vats are." 

"They cloned your brain?" 

"A couple times, the first time I just died; the second time, they said I went insane, and had to shut down the life support. I guess third time's the charm," Monica continued the lie, spinning a web that her little Mandy-fly would have to be stuck in for a little while. "Just think of me as your bionic guardian angel." 

"So..." 

"Please, can we leave it at that, and just enjoy the stars?" she turned back to the still bright sky, the rain cloud had yet to obscure the entire sky. 

"Sure, but I was going to ask where to now?" 

"San Fransisco."

* * *

It was about noon when the bike pulled up in front of Devin's bar, no need to go around back this time. Stepping off the bike, Monica helped Mandy off, and even removed her helmet, showing her exactly how to whip it off. With that done, they entered. 

"Well, well," Devin said as he turned around, he saw the bike, but didn't see Monica remove her helmet. His eyes opened, expecting to see Nate standing there, waiting for his usual Guinness. Instead, he dropped the glass he was cleaning, "Holy shit." 

"It has been a while, hasn't it Devin?" she asked as she stepped up to the bar, Mandy meekly coming up beside her. "It's been...what...five years?" 

"S-something like that," he said, stooping to pick up the shattered glass. "To be honest, I was expecting to see your brother." 

"I know," she smirked as she wrapped her knuckle on the counter top three times. Almost instantly a bottle of Guinness was placed in front of her, and a bottle of Diet Coke for Mandy. "I'm going to need a room for a couple nights, showing my friend the city." 

"You sure you didn't come here for something else?" he asked slyly, he knew what day it was. 

"Yes, there is that, now, about that room?" 

"Right, right, third floor, one bed," he grabbed a key off the rack and tossed it to her. "You can leave the girl here, I know you have things to take of personally." 

"Thanks," she handed the key to Mandy, "take your stuff up to the room, and don't leave this building till I get back." 

"But-" 

"No buts, I'll be back in a little bit," she turned from the bar and headed for the door, leaving her drink sitting on the bar. "Devin, could you put that in the fridge for me, thanks."

* * *

Nate stood in a cemetery, in front of the gravestone of one Felicia Carter, remembering his lost love. It was this day, three years earlier that he had killed her, because he had been told to do so. She had been an innocent, wanting to do nothing more than help people, to love, and be loved. How he wished he could turn back time, to make it all not happen, to, instead of killing her that night, told her it was over. He fell to his knees in front of the grave, crimson tears streaking his face. 

"I'm sorry, please, forgive me," he whispered as he wiped his face with his palm, and then he placed the bloody hand on the stone. "I know you would forgive me, you always understood, even though I kept you in the dark so much." 

... 

A younger Nate was thrown across the room by a massively muscled guard, who brandished two shotels on his back. Nate stood, the nano-technology already running rampant through his body upping the flow of adrenaline in his system. As soon as he was up, though, a huge shoulder was rammed into him, literally blasting him through the door behind him. He landed on a narrow catwalk over a seemingly bottomless pit, but even then he wasn't allowed a bit of respite. The guard's fist plowed into his face, throwing him back even further, until he slammed into one of the spikes that littered the other wall. It pierced his back, but wasn't large enough to get all the way through. 

"URGH!" he stumbled forward, grasping the railing to keep himself steady. 

"Time to die!" the guard charged him, shotels raised and ready to end it. 

Nate looked up, and, summoning all the strength he could with his technologically enhanced, grabbed his wrists as the shotels were coming down. The very tips of the blades just touching on his shoulders. His muscles strained against the powerhouse of genetic manipulation in front of him. It was then that he smirked, because the wrist units he wore (at that time they were external) opened and two blades jackknifed out, slicing off the guard's hands, which he held onto. While the man was stumbling back, Nate ripped the hand from the swords and took hold of them; using them to slice off his enemy's head. 

He looked at the two massive swords now clenched in his hands, the cybernetic parts of his brain analyzing them. It was already calculating how much strength was needed to use them to maximum effect. Holding them up, he placed them against his back, four struts piercing his skin to secure them there. He was not wearing his coat, that had been torn from him by the four guard he fought before this behemoth. Gauging the man's height, Nate placed him at roughly eight feet tall, and 500 pounds (all muscle). Reaching behind him, he felt the hole in his black spy uniform, and could also feel it beginning to heal, slowly, but it was. 

"Now then," he looked over the side of the catwalk, into the blackness, "guess I should be heading up." 

Pointing his wrist unit up, a small grappling hook launched up towards a higher catwalk, where he saw a flash of movement. It caught, and he was pulled from his place, dragged through the emptiness of this unholy machine. He was not lost on the fact that he was in the main firing chamber for this massive weapon, which had enough power to level not only LA, but just about any place on the planet. But now was not the time to dwell on how this thing worked, something about a controlled nuclear explosion. 

Reaching the catwalk, he swung over the railing, landing a little heavier than he'd like. It didn't matter, though, because he wasn't there long, taking off at a run to follow his target. There was no place left for this man to hide, no place left for him to run, the only room at the end of this hall was the control room, and Nate had to get there before the final countdown could be initiated. Feet pounding, he stepped up a bit, moving just that much faster, there was no room for error. 

Red klaxons blared along the walls as his fears were realized, the weapon was being charged. The door came into view as he rounded a corner, and it was quickly dispatched with swift, well-placed kick. There he was, the man who built this place, the one who had caused all this trouble, the man who made Nate miss his date with Felicia, Dr. Marco. Drawing his revolver, he pointed it at the back of the man's head, cocking it. 

"Step away from the controls, and turn around," he said in a very calm, slightly sibilant voice. 

"I see you made it past Bruno," the old man said as he turned, and a single round was discharged into his head. 

Wasting no time, Nate ran to the controls, seeing that the countdown had begun. He reached behind his neck, beneath his hair, and pulled a cable from a slot in his vertebra. It was a simple USB cable, which he plugged into the console, "diving" in to search for the shut down code. After finding it, and using it, he unplugged the cable, and felt it retract into he neck. Turning from the computer, Nate sent out a silent message that the job was complete, and WOOHP could send in a cleanup crew. 

It was at that time that he finally felt extremely tired, leaning against the chair as the wound in his back began to heal faster, now down to almost a quarter its original size. Slowly he made his way for the door, the less energy he had to use moving, the more could be placed on healing.

* * *

Felicia Carter, a young woman, roughly 18 years of age, bade goodnight to her mother and went to her room. Out of reflex she picked up the brush that was on the desk by the door and brought it to he raven tresses. Finally scanning the room with blue eyes, she locked on the shadowy form in the corner. A smile crossed her angelic face when it moved. It was soon replaced with concern when she saw the red stains on the clothing. 

"You made it," she moved forward, crouching down next to him. 

"Told you I would," he looked up at her. 

"I'm not even going to ask what happened or how you got in here," she stood, pulling him with her, he groaned. "Let's just get you fixed up." 

"I'm sorry I missed our date," he brushed a loch of midnight hair from her face and kissed her, "I will make it up to you." 

No more words were exchanged as she led him to the bathroom that she and her younger sister shared. It was built between their two rooms with a door at each end, allowing them both entry. There was a shower/tub on one side and a toilet and sink on the other. A whole wall of the shower was a single mirror (I'm not sure why), and it was one the edge of that tub that she made him sit. She removed his coat, and he unzipped the front of his suit, pulling it down around his waist (his implants haven't progressed enough to use shifter clothing). He heard her utter a gasp when she saw the wounds on his back, shoulders, and front. 

After making sure the door to her sister's room was locked - hers as well - she got down to business. From beneath sink she pulled out a blue medical chest, taking what she needed from that. First she cleaned the wound, remarking quietly how clean it looked already. Next she began stitching the large hole in his back shut, not once believing the shudders from pain to be real. Then she moved to the two on his shoulders, they were in the same place on both side of his neck, exactly halfway between where his neck ended and the deltoid began. Something that looked like metal was showing from beneath the skin, but didn't pay it any mind and just went back to sewing it up. 

"Nate...?" she started, breaking the silence. 

"Felicia, please, not here," he sighed, looking at her in the mirror. "I'll tell you everything, but not here, not now." 

"I understand," she draped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him to her.

* * *

Three days later she had gone to the amusement park according to the letter she had received, and was shot. Nate had pulled the trigger after hearing from Jerry that Felicia was a security risk, and could be a counterspy. It was this incident that had caused Nate's emotional breakdown, making him cold and uncaring to almost everyone around him. That day had been three years ago this day. 

... 

"Well, I didn't expect to see you here," a female voice said from behind him. 

Turning from the gravestone, Nate thought he was seeing an almost carbon copy of his Felicia. He wiped the rest of his tears away, finally realizing who this was. 

"And crying even, that's new," the girl continued. 

"It's been a while," he looked the teen up and down, "Kana."

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the bar, Devin was attempting to entertain his charge for the time being. She just didn't seem interested in his advances, then he noticed her eyes following Grace everywhere she went. It dawned on him then why Monica/Nate had brought her here, this chick was a lesbian who was still coming to terms with herself. 

"So, who is she?" he asked as he wiped another glass. 

**PPPPPPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT!**

The diet coke Mandy had been drinking was now all over Devin. 

"Wh-who do you mean?" Mandy asked, looking this way and that to see if anyone had noticed; a couple people had, but didn't pay it much mind. 

"The girl who you're either trying to get into your life or out of your life," he chuckled as he wiped his face. "I've been in this city for the past few years Mandy, I employ a lesbian waitress, and get all kinds in this place; I've had plenty of time to learn peoples' mannerisms." 

"Oh," she looked a little down, since when had her moods and thoughts become an open book? "Sorry for spraying you." 

"Happens more than you might think," he smirked. "So who is she?" 

**PPPPPPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT!**

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to ask again," Mandy apologized, wiping her mouth this a napkin as Devin wiped his face with a rag. 

"Of course I was going to ask again, now stop trying to change the subject," he said, his voice showing obvious irritation. 

"Tell you what," Mandy leaned forward, getting very close to Devin, "I'll tell you everything about this girl if you tell me everything about Monica."

* * *

Back in B.H. the three spies were walking though the mall when... 

"AAACHOOOOO!" 

Clover sneezed.

* * *

Mandy leaned ever further, the front of her shirt opening a bit to show just enough cleavage, while he voice contained just enough hidden desire to instill just the right reaction. 

"Well?" 

"What exactly do you want to know about her?" the former WOOHP tech. asked. "Because there isn't much to know really. Her brother's the interesting one." 

"She never told me she has a brother." 

"Hm, well, I just told you something about her," he leaned on the bar himself, also getting very close to Mandy, "now tell me something about this girl." 

"She's blonde." 

Devin stood up, turned, and walked down to the other end of the bar to serve someone a drink, leaving a bewildered Mandy behind. When he was finished there, he came back and looked down at her. 

"If you're not going to be serious about this, then I'm not going to tell you anything else about Monica or her brother," he said sternly. "To answer the question you're about to ask, I mean I want to know something other than the external things, I want to know what makes you love her." 

"Oh...um, she's...uh, I can'r say she has a nice rack, can I?" 

"If it's one of the things you love about her, but I need more than that," his smirk grew wider, almost lecherous. 'Wonder if it's the blonde who had been in here last week?'

* * *

Nate stood on the pave walk in the cemetery as Kana placed a small bouquet of flowers on the graves in front of her. One was her sister's, the other belonged to her father, John Carter, who had died when she was only ten. When she stood up, she turned to look at the young man who was watching her, a look of pure venom in her eyes. 

"Why did you come back here?" she asked. 

"I was in the area," he shrugged. 

"That's bullshit," she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Fine, what is it you want me to say?" he leveled his eyes directly on hers. "Sorry isn't going to cut it now, neither is asking for your forgiveness, so what do you want from me?" 

She looked surprised, not expecting him to be this forward and responsive, this definitely wasn't the same person she knew three years earlier. Something was different, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Sure, he was older, but he seemed less reserved, more apt to converse, to actually tell her something other than to piss off. 

"I don't want anything from you, just to us alone," her glare had relaxed a bit with her thoughts racing. 

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to stick around, and talk with you about something very important," he said before looking around briefly. "Could we possibly go somewhere more private?" 

"Why? Is what you have to say so important it can't be said in front of her?" Kana gestured to the grave behind her. 

He sighed, it wasn't supposed to happen like this; he was supposed to catch her at her home later today, not here. This girl had always been a bit of an annoyance, but always in a somewhat lovable way. Now that she had grown into this young woman, now she was just plain irritating. But what he had to say had to be said, otherwise she would never know peace over her sister's death. 

"Fine," he conceded, looking away from her. "I used to work for a company run by my father..." 

"Right, WOOHP, I already knew that." 

"That WOOHP is just a cover for the real WOOHP, which is a network of spies and assassins working to keep relative peace in the world - thus the name World Organization of Human Protection," he began walking, beckoning her to follow, she did. "I had been an assassin, like my mother, born and raised in WOOHP for the sole purpose of killing, it's what I did. Then I met your sister, and my whole outlook on life changed; it used to be that I got an assignment, carried it out, and came home. Not anymore, Felicia opened so much more of the world to me than WOOHP ever could, a cornucopia of experiences. 

"Jerry hadn't been taking my frequent absences very well, and arranged for her 'execution,'" he turned his face away from hers as the red tears began to flow again. "It was by my hands that she died, because it had been placed in my head that she was a counterspy, using me to get valuable information on WOOHP." 

He then realized that she had stopped walking, and turned to see why. Kana was standing there, shaking, her hands balled into fists of rage, and tears were streaming unchecked down her face. Her eyes were shut tight, but it didn't hinder her crying, a choked sob making itself known every few moments. 

"It was you?" she asked through gritted teeth. "You killed her?" 

"Yes," he said, casting his eyes downward. 

"YOU SONOFABITCH!" she screamed as her hand landed hard against his face, two of her fingers dislocating from the force. "AAAHHHGGG!" 

She held her hand in front of her, looking at the flopping phalanges, wondering why it felt like she had just hit a plate of steel. Casting her gaze at his face, there wasn't even a bruise or a blemish, or anything that would indicate she had just hit him. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON? 

"Wh-what are you?" she asked as she popper her fingers back into place. 

"That's the part I wanted to tell you in private," he looked around at the people staring at them. "Do you mind if we go back to your house?" 

"Not at all, it'll give you chance to explain to Mom at the same time," she shrugged and turned to lead him to her car. 

TBC 

THIS CHAPTER MUST END! It took me long enough to do it, but I did it, the truth will finally be told. How will they take it, it'll be about another 2-3 months before you find out, hehe. Trust me, I'm writing this story by the seat of my pants, nothing but the end is planned out, so I have to find a way to get there. Oh well, not much I can do about it till I do it. Hope you like the chapter, expecting more than a couple reviews this time. 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies 

The Assassin: WOOHP Files 

)-( - flashback 

Chapter 11 

By Nate Sindel

* * *

The ride in Kana's car was silent, not even the radio was on, and Nate could tell that this news was affecting her driving. In a busy city like San Francisco, one would not expect someone to run three red lights in a row, almost causing a multitude of accidents, without even a glance back. 

Into the driveway of her house they pulled, and, upon exiting the car, it raised up a good six inches, having to no longer carry the burden of Nate's weight. He closed the door lightly, and followed her up the steps to the house that was built on an incline. The door was unlocked, signaling that her mother was home. 

She led him down the hall to the kitchen, his memories turning back to the first time he had walked this path. But that long ago, too long to be important now, unfortunately, his mind believed otherwise. He could recall it in perfect detail, how she held his hand as she pulled him along, the smile on her face, practically ear to ear, and he had allowed her to. 

'Hopefully she takes this well,' he thought as they entered the kitchen at the back of the house. 

"MOM!" Kana yelled at the top of her lungs, seeing as how the kitchen was empty. 

"What?" came the annoyed voice of one Lydia Carter, age 41, from down the hall to their left. 

She walked into the room, towel wrapped around her ebony hair, and bathrobe covering the rest of her. Standing a little shorter than himself, Nate had always wondered how her children ended up being so short; Felicia had only been roughly 5'2", and Kana barely topped 5'3" on a good day. Her eyes flicked over to Nate, and she...smiled? 

"Oh, Nate, I was wondering when you'd get here," she said in a cheery voice. "Natalie gave me a much earlier time for your arrival." 

"Wha'?" was all he, or Kana, could come up with at the moment. He, though, continued, "How do you know Doctor Rivage?" 

"Well, that's...complicated," the older woman sighed, looking between the two before her. "Would you mind if I changed first?" 

"Fine," Nate groaned, sitting in a chair at the table. 

Lydia left the room, returning to the upstairs, where squeaking in the ceiling told them that she was moving about. Kana, meanwhile, took a seat across from Nate, looking over at him, as if studying him. His eyes flicked towards her...she looked so much like her sister, it was getting harder to tell the difference. He watched as she placed her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms. 

"Don't do that," he said, a little more tensely than he would have liked, "please." 

"Do what?" she asked, innocently enough. 

"Don't sit like that." 

"Felicia used to sit like this, didn't she?" 

"Yes," he dropped his gaze from her, loose hair moving to cover his face. 

)-( 

"You know, you could smile a little more," Felicia said, tugging Nate's arm closer to her. "I mean, I heard that too much frowning leads to wrinkles." 

"Is that why you try to smile as much as possible?" he asked, looking down at her wide smile. 

"Yup, Mom says that when you smile, it helps to make other people smile," she laid her head against his shoulder. "Makes their day just that much brighter." 

Nate couldn't hold it in...he chuckled, though if you asked Felicia, it was a giggle. He turned a smiling face back to her, unhooking his arm from hers, in favor of placing it around her shoulders. As always, he was mindful of his strength, being very careful to do nothing that would cause harm. 

"So, when do I get to meet her?" 

"You actually want to meet my mother?" she looked at him as if he were from Mars. 

"Yes, why?" he gave her the same look. 

"From what I had heard, it's always hard for guys to meet their girlfriends' parents." 

"And where did you hear this?" he looked up at the Golden Gate Bridge, from their place on Baker Beach. 

"Mmm...places," she said with a mischievous grin. 

He decided not to press the issue, attributing it to television, the mind-numbing box. The head on his slim shoulder was beginning to move, getting more comfortable. Her arm moved around his waist from behind, untucking his tank top as it went, reaching up underneath to rub his back. A sigh escaped him as he leaned into the caress. 

That was when the palm was removed and only the tips of her nails were brushing along his skin, causing him to shake involuntarily. It continued for another few minutes before he burst out laughing. 

)-( 

"I'm back," came a sing song voice from the door, snapping Nate from his memory. 

Eyes lifted to take in the woman before him, dressed in just a loose-fitting T-shirt and blue jeans. Darting to look at Kana, he saw that she had changed position, now sitting sprawled in her chair, like he was. His eyes cast back down, watching his shuffling feet. 

"Well, some greeting I get," she huffed, and moved to the fridge, taking out three water bottles and placing two of them on the table. 

"You never really left," Kana pointed out. 

"How do you know Doctor Rivage?" Nate asked again, wanting to know how they were connected. 

"Believe it or not," she paused, taking a sip of her water, "you're the reason I know her."

* * *

Devin had made some headway with Mandy, but not enough; neither one seemed too serious to let out anything important. He looked up at the clock, so far Nate/Monica had been gone for four hours, and it was getting late. They had given up on the game a few hours earlier, when Mandy had gone up to the room, feigning boredom. 

"Psh, why did I have to move to San Francisco?" he asked himself, absentmindedly wiping a glass. 

"Because you like to watch the lesbians make out in the park," Grace giggled, setting the empty tray down on the counter. 

"Oh yeah," the tall man grinned, "I guess that _is_ one of the bonuses." 

The blonde teen looked at him, a smirk on her own face, it was good to know some things didn't change. She took a seat at the bar, undoing the apron she was wearing, and draping it over the counter. The tables were empty, no one was there but the two of them, and those who had rooms above them. 

"What time is it?" she asked. 

"About ten-thirty," he placed the cup in the rack under the bar. "Everybody who usually comes is out at the clubs, or something." 

The sound of footsteps alerted them to Mandy's arrival, and she took a seat next to Grace. 

"Monica isn't back yet, is she?" the raven-haired girl asked. 

"No, and we haven't heard from her either," Devin said, placing a can of Diet Coke in front of her. 

The bell over the door tinkled, and in walked Monica, looking somewhat surly, though that look evaporated when she saw Mandy. She hopped up next to her charge and placed her head on her arms, which were crossed on the counter. Nate had booted her out, reversing the merge to give them separate bodies, then left. 

"Hey," the man behind the bar said casually, retrieving her Guinness. "How did it go?" 

"Fine, just fine," she said, taking a sip.

* * *

Nate stood on Baker Beach, looking up at the flashing lights of the Golden Gate Bridge, the sand beneath his bare feet feeling exactly as it had that day. But, this time, there was a look of relief on his face as he sank into a sitting position; the shifter clothing having taken away the coat and suit, leaving him in a green tank and swim trunks. 

He sat and remembered what Lydia had told him, what Natalie Rivage had done, and remembered why he was so relieved. 

)-( 

"What do you mean?" he asked the woman leaning against the counter. 

"When you started dating Felicia, a woman appeared on our doorstep - actually she looked like a little girl, but that's besides the point. She told me her name, told me who she worked for, and told me about you. I let her in, since I wanted to know who was making my daughter so happy," she sighed, looking down at her water. "When she told me what you were, what you did, I was a little apprehensive...to tell the truth I was about to throw her out. Then she told me all about WOOHP, all about the good they did for the world, all the good you did. Needless to say I calmed down. 

"Natalie spoke of you quite highly, almost like a mother, which I guess she is...in a roundabout way, anyway. When she left, she told me to never tell Felicia about you, that you would do that when you were ready. I accepted this, and left it alone. We became friends, she and I, and every time she's in the area, she visits, or calls. It was after Felicia's funeral that she came, she told me what had happened to her..." 

"She told you that I killed her?" Nate interrupted. 

"No, she told me that Jerry believed Felicia was getting in the way, that he had ordered you to kill her, believing she was counterspy. But you weren't the one that did it, you couldn't bring yourself to pull the trigger, so they had a backup sniper...he's the one that killed her, not you," she finished with a rather large gulping of water. "She was killed by someone else, someone else who worked for WOOHP, and memories were implanted to make you think you did it." 

"But...it was still my fault," he hung lower in the chair. 

"No," she fell to her knees in front of him, looking him in he face, "it was never your fault to love Felicia, it was never your fault." 

"Indirectly it was, but the direct fault lies with Jerry," he opened his eyes, looking into the teary face before him. Turning his head, he saw Kana practically catatonic, she was facing forward, not blinking, her face white. "But don't worry, he'll get his, very soon." 

With that, he stood, and turned to head for the door, hearing footfalls behind him. Turning, he saw the two women following him, almost like zombies. His hand was on the railing that lead upstairs, and, looking back as if asking for permission, Lydia nodded. He moved up the stairs, into the hall, down the hall to the door, through the door, and into the room...the room he hadn't entered in three years. It was the same. 

The bed was the same, the dresser was the same, the bookshelf was the same, the clothes in the partially open closet were the same, the mess strewn across the floor in her rush to find something to wear...the same. He stepped in, moving slowly, carefully, and walked to the back corner, where there was a cubbyhole between the bookcase and the dresser. Legs practically giving out, he fell, turning as he did, until he was nestled in that space.

* * *

After being dropped off at the cemetery, Nate wandered for a little while, looking at random graves, soon he was alone. His back began to bulge, his arms as well, starting at his fingers, they began to separate, right at the tip. Once his arms were completely split, two of them his, two of them his, the other two were Monica's, the lower two placed themselves on his shoulders and started to push, forcing the bulge in his back further out. Legs separated from legs, two of the feet bracing against his, using that as added leverage for the split. 

It wasn't long before Monica was standing behind Nate, fussing with her coat. 

"And what brought this on?" she asked. 

"I need to do some thinking, alone," he said, pulling the collar of his coat, shifting it to a tank and shorts. "Besides, Mandy is probably waiting for you to get back." 

"Yeah," she sighed, finally getting her coat the way she wanted it. "You want me to take you anywhere?" 

"No, I'll walk." 

"Okay."

* * *

Now, here he stood, as he was before, aside from the technology copied from Monica's advanced design. It was peaceful, the waves crashing on the shore, the gentle breeze blowing in over the ocean, ruffling his hair. His hand moved along the sand, creating circle patterns and such at his side. The near inaudible sound of shifting sand caught his attention, and he turned to see who was there. 

"This was one of her favorite spots," Kana said, walking up and sitting beside him. 

"I know," he turned back around. 

"Mom filled me in on what you are," the teen said, looking up at the bridge. "I'm sorry for what I said." 

"It's alright, I was prepared for it at the time," he chuckled, placing his hand on her head and mussing her hair. "Does she know you're here?" 

"Yes," she huffed, batting his hand away 

"That's good," he sighed, leaning back on his elbows, looking out over the water. "But you might want to leave, it isn't safe to be around me." 

"Why?" 

"This isn't the time for questions, just do it," he hissed, keeping his voice low, "please." 

Just as she was about to get up, he grabbed her arm and tugged her down. She was about to protest when she saw them, some sort of creature moving out of the water. And there was more movement behind them. It was then that she realized it was too late to go anywhere. 

"Don't bother, you're car's been rigged," Nate said as he stood, flipping his hair over his shoulder. 

"So, we've finally found you," a male voice said from behind him. 

"I can't believe he would actually send you," the assassin turned, "Dean, oh, and you brought Brittany, fun." 

"We've come to take you in, Jerry has some questions for you," the girl in blue said, "the girl, too." 

"Really, because I have some questions for him," Nate said as he smirked, reaching for his revolver, then remembering that Monica had it. 'Oh well, guess I do this the old fashioned way.' 

Looking over both shoulders, he took count of how many agents there were, ten in all, counting Dean and Brittany. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tips open ever so slightly, revealing the hidden m-lashes within each one. This was going to be a walk in the park for him, but with Kana still sitting at his feet, it was not going to be an easy walk. M-lashes tended to be sporadic, and, if you didn't control them properly, the wrong people ended up losing limbs. 

One arm whipped to the side, the five lashes in his fingers whipping out, slicing the four unsuspecting agents to ribbons. The four on his other side, leveled their pulse rifles and fired, and were absorbed easily by his shield - an improved version granted to him by Monica's upgrades. Closing the lashes in one hand, he removed the disc in his arm for the shield, handing it to Kana. 

"Here, this will keep you safe," he whispered, before stepping through the shield. 

Not having his coat left him feeling somewhat naked, since all he had to use were his onboard weapons. M-lashes opened again, flickering towards the other four agents in black. Their shields erected, and blocked the attack, but that sent the carefully placed lash towards Dean and Brittany. They were able to get out of the way, but not without Brittany losing most of her hair. 

"You bastard," she cried, leaping at him, only to have her ankle grabbed, twisted, and snapped. "AGH!" 

"Fire!" Dean ordered, but the agents were hesitant; the assassin still had hold of the blue-clad spy. "Using her as a shield, that's low even for you." 

Red eyes slid calmly over to the spy in darker blue, and an audible growl emanated from his throat. Dropping the girl, his arm whipped up, long blades lancing out from his palm, launching to impale the befuddled agents, killing them. He stepped over Brittany, advancing on Dean, who actually looked confident. 

"Overload," Nate spoke, and there was a multitude of sparking and small explosions from Dean's person. "No gadgets allowed, okay Dane." 

"It's Dean," the spy snarled. 

"Whatever, Dan," he shrugged, smirking again, wider. 

"Hah!" the enraged spy yelled, attempting a roundhouse kick, and having it connect. 

"Is that it?" Nate asked, one eye looking at the foot that struck his head, the other on Dean. "I must say, I was expecting more from Jerry's favorite little lapdog." 

"Don't call me that!" Dean hollered, his fist placing a direct hit to Nate's face. 

"Really Don..." 

"It's DEAN!" 

"...you must have some idea of what I am, some semblance of the fact that I could snap you like a twig?" his arm snapped, up, open hand wrapping around Dean's neck, just below his jaw, lifting him off the ground. "You are completely helpless without your gadgets, pathetic." 

With ease he tossed Dean a good twenty feet, towards the water, then slashed at him with his m-lashes, segmenting his body like a surgeon. One cut through his ankles, the next through his knees, the next through his manhood, then his waist, both arms, and his next. Another couple slashed and Nate felt that the former spy was ready to be fish food. 

"Now then," he stooped and grabbed a sobbing Brittany by the shoulder, hauling her over to a bench near the parking lot. "You are going to sit here and think about what just happened, and I want you to think really hard. I want you to tell Jerry that I know what happened to Felicia, I want you to tell him that I'm coming for him, understand?" 

"Go fuck yourself," she snapped, surprising him with such language; this was Brittany, the goody-goody-two-shoes. 

"I'll take that as a yes," he said before knocking her unconscious. 

Turning her over, he lifted the short crop of hair she had left, and placed a finger to the back of her head, where the neck joined it. A quick needle prick, and he placed his own transponder within her. It would grow within her brain, tapping into all parts of it, hearing site, speech, memory, among other things. 

"He'd never expect my help to come from within his own ranks," Nate placed her on the bench in a sleeping position, and turned on her WOOHP distress beacon. 

His business with Brittany finished, he returned to Kana, who was crouched beneath the shield, her eyes closed, and hands over her head. The power to the shield was cut, and he placed his hand on her shoulder. She unfurled slowly, looking around at the carnage around them, then at Nate, who was surprisingly calm. But they didn't have time for this moment to last, for he knew that a WOOHP CUE (Clean Up and Evacuation) squad would be there very soon. 

"Come on," he said, pulling her along through the parking lot, towards her car. "Pop the hood." 

"'Kay," she slid in and pulled the release. 

Reaching in, he rooted around until he found what he was looking for, the small box attached to the starter. Removing the explosive and reattaching the wires, he searched for others, and found two more. He then shut the hood and walked around to the side, looking underneath, and finding nothing. 

"Kana, I want you to forget what you saw here," he leaned on the open passenger window. "Don't tell your mother, or anyone else; if someone you think looks suspicious comes to your door, tell them nothing." 

"Is this why you never told Felicia, because you didn't want this?" she asked, looking forward. 

"This is exactly why," he turned away, "I kept her in the dark because this would happen." 

"Nate, I..." 

"Just go, you can't be anywhere near here when they show up," he looked at her intently, to which she nodded and started the car. 

As she pulled away, he started walking north, heading for the warehouse in which his jet was still being housed. He knew they wouldn't find it, since he was the one who designed and built it, conveniently leaving out all the tracking equipment. It was there that he was going to pick up his new vehicle, his backup ride. 

TBC 

Ending it here, because it hurts so much. 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies.

And I'm back, it's been a long time. Long story short, I hit a bit of a mental snag when I started hanging out with people again, my brain was trying to concentrate on too much at once, so I just decided to stop the writing for a little until I could handle both. More looks into his twisted past for all you who enjoy that sort of thing too.

The Assassin: WOOHP Files

Chapter 12

Nate Sindel

* * *

It didn't take Nate long to reach the warehouse where his plane was still hidden, and, upon opening the door, he noticed that the vehicle he wanted had already been unloaded. He smiled, glad that the message was received. His hand reached out and traced along the curves of the Corvette Stingray; it was going to feel good to hop back in. 

And it did.

He peeled out of the warehouse and into the city, traversing the familiar route to Devin's bar. It didn't take long, the radio only had time to play one song in the time it took him...traffic was low. The wind whipped at his hair as he drifted around a corner, the car remaining sideways as he slid in front of the back entrance of the bar. He stopped there briefly before driving in.

"Hm, wonder if they've gone to bed yet?" he looked up at the back wall, at the lit and unlit windows, finding that theirs was still lit. "Nope."

His boots made slightly ominous sounds as he approached the door, which opened before he could get to the handle. Devin stood there, with a shotgun in his hands...that was lowered as soon as he saw who it was. He moved aside and let Nate in.

"Where have you been?" Devin asked, hanging the shotgun back up on the wall.

"Reminiscing with some old acquaintances," he replied, sitting at the bar.

"I see, Felicia's family?"

"No, actually, Dean and Brittany, they had this strange idea of trying to capture me," he chuckled.

"Ah, so you killed them?"

"Just Dean, I never really had anything against Brittany," he cast an eye over onto Devin. "You didn't tell them where I was, did you?"

"What, of course not," Devin said immediately. "I would never do something like that. They must be keeping closer tabs on you than you thought they might."

"Hmhm, Jerry is the type to be that much of an idiot," Nate chuckled a little. "I'm going to kill him, Devin, I'm going to make him wish he had never sent me on that mission, I'm going to dismantle WOOHP piece by piece, bit by bit, agent by agent...until everything is gone."

"Woah, woah, no need to go that far," Devin grabbed his old friend by his shoulders, attempting to shake him. "Seriously, we've all lost people we care about, most of them to WOOHP, but that's no reason to kill everyone there. Most of them don't even know what the hell happens underground."

Nate turned his red eyes upon the former tech, he fully understood what this man was telling him, and he didn't care. They took the only thing in this world he had desired, the only thing he wanted. All of them at WOOHP were allowed the right to leave, allowed the right to have relationships, allowed to love, but not him. There was going to be no forgiveness...even if it meant having to take down Clover, Sam, and Alex.

"They are all going to pay, the ones who took it upon themselves to try and control me. And whoever gets in my way is going to die."

His voice was grave, emotionless, almost demonic; Devin had never seen him like this.

"What about that nice little spy-girl?"

"I don't foresee myself having to harm them, but I will if necessary."

"Listen to me Sindel, I may have no more ties to WOOHP, and could honestly care less what you do to them, but to actually say you would kill her, then that's as good as saying you pulled the trigger to kill Feli-HURK!"

Nate's hand was around his neck now.

"Devin, don't ever say her name," he released the older man.

"Like it or not she cares about you, a great deal, I might add, and if you're going to throw away a second chance at happiness, then so be it," Devin turned and started to walk away. "You're not the only one who's lost the one you loved."

"I'm sorry, Devin, I forgot about Summer," Nate said, calming down considerably. "If it's any consolation, she felt no pain."

"I know, you did everything you could for her, the EVAC squad was too slow," Devin turned, his eyes downcast.

* * *

The mission had been a flop, one agent was dead, and the other two barely alive as it was. Nate stood, leaning against a tree, looking into the fire that they had built. There, laying on the ground, was a young woman, she was bleeding considerably. While he could feel his wounds healing themselves, slowly but surely, he knew that she would not recover from the multiple gunshot wounds to her midsection and chest. 

It was a wonder she was alive at all.

The morphine seemed to help as she was sleeping soundly now, the ground littered with bandages and other medical supplies. He had done what he could for her wounds, but it had been too late, and he had taken too long getting her out of the building that now lay behind them, demolished.

"Nate?" he glanced from the fire to her. "Are you there?"

"Yes," he knelt beside her, reaching out to grasp her hand, "I'm here."

"I want you to tell Devin...tell him I'm sorry," tears were beginning to streak her face.

"Don't say that, the CUE will be here any second, then you'll be fine," he squeezed her hand, hearing her moan as she tried to move even the slightest bit. "Don't move, you'll reopen the wounds."

She wasn't listening, she had begun to babble. "He and I, we were supposed to be married in two months, did you know that? We had the whole thing planned out, it was going to be perfect, but that's not going to happen. Even if I do recover from these wounds, I'll never be able to bear children, Nate, I'll never be able to have a family."

"A family," he looked down, hearing her whimper again.

"I want you to do something for me," she reached up, placing her hand on his cheek. "I want you to kill me."

"WHAT!? NO, I WON'T DO IT!" he pulled away from her, seeing the desperate, faraway look in her eyes.

"Please..." she reached for him, rolling herself onto her side, mewling in pain as the bandages on her stomach and chest shifted, reopening the wounds.

Nate stood and stepped back, his hand began moving as if of it's own accord, reaching down and unholstering the desert eagle at his hip. He tried to stop it, concentrating all his mind on not doing what his arm was doing. Slowly it moved, taking careful aim at her, and then slowly squeezing the trigger. She smiled as the shot went off, and then her head was gone.

He dropped the gun to ground, soon followed by him falling to his knees, hugging his arms across his chest and red tears streaming down his face. Alone he stood, stooping to lift up the dead body before him, and depositing it in the large fire nearby. Before lapsing into unconsciousness he let one final howl into the night sky.

It was the last time he worked on a team.

* * *

"She asked me to tell you she was sorry," Nate said, looking down. "That was before she asked me to kill her. The CUE didn't show up for another four hours, in that time, no matter what I had done, she would have died." 

"Yes, I know," Devin turned away, remembering all too well that night, he had been assigned to the CUE, seeing as how his fiancé was on the team sent out. "I had pleaded with Jerry to let us go when the signal was received. But he just told me to wait, perhaps someone had set it off prematurely. I know that was a load of shit, considering you're team was the best at what you did."

"Hmhm, Jerry is full of shit," Nate continued to look down. "She was right though, with her wounds she wouldn't have been able to have children. She had chosen death over seeing you disappointed in her. That was the only time I had ever seen Summer be stupid."

"She was always going on about how when we were married we would leave WOOHP behind, have a nice little family out in the country," Devin slammed his fist into the bar. "She was so stupid."

Nate looked at Devin, knowing full well that he didn't mean what he had just said. The incident happened almost four years ago, and was the main reason for Devin's leaving of WOOHP, not the LEVIATHAN being over-budget, that was just his excuse. He had long ago forgiven Nate for taking her life, albeit a little begrudgingly. He had descended into the depths of such depression that he had almost taken his own life.

"You know, I wouldn't mind a crack at Jerry myself now that I think about it," he said with a maniacal grin on his face.

"That's the spirit," Nate perked up, seeing just how serious Devin was, and how serious that memory had unbalanced him. "All I need is your help, there's some people I need kept safe."

"Of course, I already had the saferoom all set up."

"Hmhm, good," he turned to look out the front window. "I'll have them here tomorrow. Where is Mandy?"

"Upstairs with Monica, they're more than likely asleep."

"Doubtful, Monica is not the kind to sleep while things are on her mind," he sighed, pulling from his pocket a length of hair, Felicia's. "I know you worked on her, Devin, making her into the pilot for Daedalus, but you just couldn't understand why we were made, hm?"

"Honestly, no, I don't think anyone understood why Jerry would use his own children in the way he did. Most of us just assumed that it was his means of 'being fair' to everyone else who had children," Devin smirked at that though, Jerry being "fair". "Heh, that may have been it, but in his twisted mind, he probably just saw you two as superior."

"Specimens, meant for experimentation, that's all we were to him, all of us, even Mom," Nate was continuing his stare out the front window. "Hm, funny how the things you never really pay any mind to now seem completely foreign."

"Yeah, that camera continues to irk me too."

Nate sighed again as he hid the hair back within him, the last momento of a time when he was happy. He got up and started for the stairs leading up, looking to get back to his charge...though she was technically Monica's charge. As he ascended, he couldn't help but let his thoughts turn back to Alex, how she was doing, how the other two were doing.

* * *

Jerry sat behind his desk, overlooking the report filed by the rescued Brittany, who was currently standing in front of him. She was rigid, her arms behind her, ankles together (the broken one set and currently being healed by nanites), but her face was downcast...she had failed after all. 

"So you say he killed everyone and knocked you unconscious with a message for me?" he didn't look up from the short report, which seemed so interesting.

"Yes," she said. "He said he knows what happened to Felicia, and that he's coming for you."

"Well, I was expecting this from him," Jerry turned to look at her. "I've never known him to show mercy except for a few occasions, he must have a soft spot for you."

A small blush crept across her face...she had idolized him for quite a time, and he was still considered a legend. She was completely unaware of the small transponder continuing to spread itself through her, preparing to release it's full influence, to show her the truth. At the moment it was converting small amounts of the inside of her skull into more nanomachines, extending itself through her.

"Sir, if I may ask, who was Felicia, what happened to her?" she asked, the shamed look on her face changing to one of urgent questioning, always the little detective. 'If I can find out why he's doing this, perhaps I can stop him.'

"That's classified information, Brittany," Jerry placed the report back on the desk, and turned himself to look straight at her. "Now I have to meet with some people, perhaps you should go home and get some sleep."

"Yes, Sir," she saluted and turned to leave.

As she left, the ceiling dropped down, and the three spies, still in their nightwear, fell from above. All three were extremely tired, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Sam was the first to realize what had happened, and quickly stood, the others soon following. He looked them over, not realizing what time it actually was.

"So sorry to bother you girls in the middle of your sleep," he said nonchalantly, his normal charm reasserting itself. "I do hope you weren't having dreams that were too good."

"What's the mission?" Clover asked, attempting to suppress a yawn.

"I have new information as to my son's whereabouts," he smiled a little, "and that he has your friend Mandy with him."

"Where?" The blonde was suddenly wide-awake.

"He's gone back to San Francisco."

"Are we going there now?"

"No, we have reason to believe that he'll be coming back, soon," he leaned further onto his desk. "I just figured that I would let you girls know of his whereabouts."

"Oh, so how'd you figure out where he was?" Sam asked.

"We sent Dean to...ahem...'retrieve' him. Dean didn't return, so we assumed the worst."

The three spies looked at each other, thinking of what must have actually happened. Why would Jerry go to such lengths to bring Nate back after letting him go? Did it have to do with the girl, or, more likely, Jerry was hiding something, he usually was. Alex was the first one to voice a question.

"Jerry, why would you want to bring him in?" she asked with more force than the other two ever remember her using. "I mean, you just let him go."

"He got in the way of a mission, and refused to cooperate with the agent we sent. So Dean's mission was changed to retrieving him, and, well you can figure out the rest."

"That doesn't sound like him, he wouldn't interfere unless you were trying to do something to him."

"Do not proceed to think I do not understand my own son, Alex."

"But you don't-"

"Alex...I'm relieving you from duty," Jerry said, realizing that his son's pull on this spy was greater than his own.

"Fine," she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"We'll take her home Jer," Sam said before grabbing Clover and following the other spy out.

"Hmph," he shrugged and pushed a button, dropping them through a trapdoor door that, due to possibly-alien technology, brought them to the surface. "This does not bode well, it only takes one bit of dissension in the ranks to ruin an army."

* * *

Nate stood outside the room housing his sister and Mandy, he heard giggling, something he never liked without knowing the reason behind it. His hand was raised to knock on the door when he heard Mandy ask Monica about him, he figured that he should be making his entrance here and now. So he knocked. 

"Mon, it's me."

"Oh, just a sec, gotta put my pants on," he heard from the other side of the door, accompanied with much giggling...he sighed.

The door opened a couple seconds later and he was greeted with the sight of his sister buckling her belt, which had appeared on her altered clothing. She now wore a loose black tank top, _tight_ leather pants, three belts, two of which were devoted to the holster, a thigh length, blood red trench coat, and now sported black streaks in her hair.

He sighed again before turning his attention to Mandy, who had her hand on her chin while looking at him, still in his swim trunks and green tank.

"You're the substitute who yelled at me," she announced, pointing a long finger at him. "But you look different...are you a spy too?"

He stopped moving entirely, his hands halfway in his pocket, his legs slightly bent with the movement into the room. Eyes were now fully focused on her, pupils sharpening, iris pulsing, and brow slightly furrowing,

"Before I start asking questions, how much have you told her?" he didn't look at Monica, though the question was directed at her.

"Technically you just asked a question," Monica quipped.

"Don't have time for games," his head snapped to look at his sister, who took a step back, his body was fundamentally built to be more powerful than hers.

"I told her who we are, what we are, and what we're trying to do," she relented.

"Was that so hard?" he turned back to Mandy. "I'm sorry for back then, but to be honest you were grinding my nerves."

"S'okay," she grinned, "so long as I get my Clover, then we'll be even."

"Hmhm, I have no doubts of that," he turned to look at Monica again. "And you...what exactly are you wearing?"

"You don't like it?" she asked, doing a little pirouette. "When I told her about the shifter clothing she kinda went nuts with ideas."

"Yeah, I want some, to think I could be on the cutting edge of fashion and never have to buy clothing ever again," she began giggling again, a maniacal giggle that Nate believed fit her fairly well.

"Well, the look certainly fits," he smiled a little. 'Does she know about the whole merging part?'

'No, not yet, I've only just told her the truth about why we're part machine,' she sounded drained. 'It didn't take as much convincing as I thought...she was suspicious about the original story.'

"Um, are two, like, having a conversation or something?" Mandy piped up.

"Yes, sorry," he walked to the bed and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her head. "Don't worry, we'll be heading back in a couple of days. We'll finish what we started then."

"What are we doing with the Carters?"

"They'll be in the saferoom that Devin has in the basement, I'm not taking chances that WOOHP will try to abduct them again and use them as shields."

"Who're they?" Mandy asked.

"People that I owe quite a bit to," Nate pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

Mandy was satisfied with that answer, learning from Monica not to press subjects like that...especially with him. She continued to sit on the bed, his hand on her head, looking thoughtfully out the window; Monica simply observed, knowing what he was thinking. Slowly he removed his hand and stood up, leaving Mandy feeling somewhat downcast, the action had reminded her of when her father would place his hand on her head.

"Don't worry Mandy, all will be right very soon," he said before he left the two of them again.

* * *

The roof access door opened and he stepped out, there she was. 

Grace stood on the roof, looking up at the moon, still in her work clothes; she had been there a while. Upon hearing the footsteps behind her, she whirled around, loosing three throwing knives and two stilettos. Nate nimbly dodged them, rushing forward letting the cable release from his forearm, whipping it around to ensnare her.

"So, it was you," he disconnected the cable from his arm, allowing him movement. "You told him I was here, and about the Carters, why?"

"Because," she sniffed, "I couldn't stop myself."

"What do you mean?" he made a quick scan, finding what he missed last time. "A compliance chip?"

"Yeah-" sniffle "-I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."

He moved closer to her, noting the position of the ship, deep within her ribcage, connected to her brain from there. His finger shifted and changed into a needle, he had just the thing. The needle's end opened wide and out came a small robot, skittering on six legs. Not waiting for an order it burrowed it's way into her partially exposed sternum, cauterizing the wound as it did.

"This should only take a minute."

* * *

Back at WOOHP a tech throws off the sizzling helmet, "FUCK!" 

"What is it?" Jerry asked, looking over from the console that displayed Grace's bio-signs, which now went blank. "I see."

"He sent a feedback surge, fried the helmet," the man wiped his brow, having almost had his brain cooked.

"Hm, well, then I guess your job here is done as well," the head of WOOHP said as he turned and pulled a gun, shooting the tech. He pressed a button on the console, "I'm going to need a clean up team in here."

* * *

"That should do it," he said as the robot made its way back out. 

"Thanks," she said as she took a breath. "I never want to not be in control of my own body ever again."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd let Sam control you," he smirked, "let her do dirty things."

"Shut up!" she screamed and punched him the arm...that was what she was thinking. "What about that Alex chick, hm, would you let her do those things to you."

"Well, this body is fully functional, and anatomically correct," he hummed a little, "but no."

He released the cable and looked up at the moon, she followed his gaze, rubbing her arms where the cold metal had been. She looked back at him, wanting to apologize for what she had done, but it was pointless, he understood better than anyone the feeling of being powerless to stop his body.

"So...hot little bod on that Alex," she blurted, not knowing anything else to say. "Why haven't you done anything about that?"

"You know me, Gracie," he looked down. "I'm shy."

TBC

Yeah, yeah, long wait, I know...I've had the worst case of writer's block, mainly due to the fact that I have very little access to new music, but now I've got this little program called limewire, in which case I have almost limitless access to such things. Anyway, one or two more chapters left, depends on if I want to ramble or just get it over with...you choose. Oh, and special guest appearance by anyone who can tell me what "fully functional and anatomically correct" is from; there are two sources, so just give it a shot.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies. 

I WILL END THIS...EVENTUALLY! 

The Assassin: WOOHP Files 

By: Nate Sindel

* * *

"How long?" he asked the short blonde. 

"Since before I left, they said it was something to help my heart," she looked away. "Devin found it about a year ago, but he didn't have the equipment to remove it, and it seemed deactivated, and..." 

"Gracie...you're rambling," he looked out towards the bay, his full view obstructed by several buildings. "The important point is that it's out now. Shit, now I have to move my plans up." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Hmhm, don't you know, Jerry doesn't sleep, so WOOHP doesn't sleep, they'll be on the move very soon," he charged for the edge of the tavern/hotel. "There's some things I have to get." 

With that he was gone over the edge, only the reappear with two jet thrusters sticking out of his back. He was not going to let them get the jump on him this time; he was going to prove to his father that everything can, and will, go wrong. A ripple ran down him from the tip of his head to his boots, encompassing his hair was well, the next instant he disappeared. 

"Best to inform Devin of the new arrivals," she hurried through the roof access, thankful to have her body under her own control for the first time in days.

* * *

He landed silently on the doorstep of the Carter home, placing his hand on the knob, and feeling nanites fill the keyhole, unlocking it for him. As he entered he noticed something...both Carter women were awake, in the hall, looking at him with a dumbstruck expression. They appeared to be getting ready to head up for bed for the night. 

'Stroke of luck,' he thought before speaking. "Uh, yeah, need you to come with me...now." 

"Where?" Kana asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"A safe place...shit is going to go down," he glanced at Lydia. "Pardon my French." 

She seemed to deflate slightly, profanity tended to do that to her, but they had hashed this out long ago and determined that if he excused himself with the phrase, it would be fine. 

"Well, then I guess we're going," she said, grabbing her keys off the rack and heading for door, which Nate immediately moved out of the way of. 

"You heard the lady," he quipped to Kana. 

"Yeah, yeah," she immediately followed her mother out the door. 

As they descended to the driveway, it was silent, entering the car was silent, the ride was mostly silent, with Nate giving directions every once and a while. Soon they arrived at the tavern, placing the car in the back; this one didn't disappear. He led them in the back door, down the basement stairs, to a large metal door, next to which Devin was standing. The lights within clicked on and illuminated another staircase, this one going down beyond the light. 

He led them down, down, down, soon another lightbulb came into view, but the stairs continued. Finally, after almost a full five minutes, they reached another metal door, which Nate opened with ease. Inside was a large, large room that seemed to be a smaller copy of the park room inside of WOOHP. This room though may have had the artificial sunlight of the other room, and the trees, and bushes, but this room had something else...a small house - a cabin really. 

"I suppose just consider this your home away from home," Devin said, walking the ten feet across the "lawn" to open the front door. "It's fully stocked, just about everything-proof, and should keep you comfy and cozy, snug as a bug in a..." 

"That's enough Devin, no need to embellish it," Nate cut in, "you're not a realtor." 

"Little do you know," the older man chuckled. "Simply put, it'll keep you safe." 

"Thank you," Lydia nodded, looking around. "But, how?" 

"The artificial environment generator that Doctor Rivage invented," the green-haired assassin answered. "That and a clever use of holograms." 

She nodded, moving towards the cabin, leaving Kana to scout around. Devin looked over at Nate, seeing the far too content look on his face. With what would be happening soon, that was the last thing he wanted to see on his friend's face. 

"So this was her family?" 

"Yeah." 

"I see the resemblance, her sister looks just like her," he nodded to her backside. 

"No getting any ideas." 

"Now you know me better than that, I only enjoy the view," he chuckled again and left. "Let me know when you're ready to go, I've got some stuff to pull out of storage." 

The door closed and latched. 

Nate heaved a sigh, that he got them here and safe was good and all, but what's going to happen tomorrow...or later tonight? He looked around and noticed that Kana was watching him again, and with good reason. His shifter clothing seemed to have come to life and was currently working its way down his legs and arms, covering him in his combat suit. 

"You gonna have time for a quick goodbye?" she asked, walking back over. 

At his nod she embraced him, pulling herself close to him a tight hug, and she smiled slightly when he returned it. Something was wrong though, his arms were slightly loose against her back, as if the slightest move would hurt her. 

"My sister was a lucky girl to have snagged you," Kana said, catching the assassin off guard. "I was jealous of her for a time, all the times you and I had argued, it was because of this stupid crush I had on you. But I had been so young then, and couldn't get over the fact that she had someone who was so perfect." 

"I'm hardly perfect," he breathed, not sure if he was defending himself, contending her point, or just saying it. "All the shit I had put her through, and she'd just take it all in stride. She never flew off the handle when I showed up covered in blood, berating me for getting it on her carpet, or complaining that I missed a date. If anything, your sister was the perfect one, and I was the lucky one." 

"Ahem!" came the clearing of a throat from behind Kana. 

"Pardon my French," he quipped as Kana released him. 

"You'll come back, won't you?" she asked. "I mean, you gotta get us outta this place when you're done." 

"Don't worry," he walked to the door, "I'll come back, and, who knows, I may have a friend with me." 

The door closed and latched before Kana could piece together what he'd said. What did he mean a new friend, she just poured her heart out to him and he's just going to brush her off...AGAIN! 

"Why that..." she started for the door. 

"Kana. Bed. Now," came her mother's even tone from behind. She turned on her heel and trudged toward the house. 

"Fine."

* * *

Nate arrived at the basement in time to see Devin opening storage lockers, pulling out his weaponry. It had been a while since he'd seen his friend this dead-set on something, going as far as to unpack his powersuit. Various kinds of pulse rifles, phase cannons, shield discs, explosives, and armor pieces littered the floor around him as he began suiting up. 

"It's been a while, think it'll still fit?" he jokingly asked the man on the floor. 

"Heh, I hope so," Devin replied, pulling the black material on. 

Once it was on he began picking up the various pieces of armor and attacking them. All the armor began to flow over the suits surface, filling in the gaps between the pieces, giving the suits surface the appearance of a mirror finish. Two guns were hooked to his hips, two on his back, shield discs were placed on his upper arms. The armor flowed again to cover the weaponry. 

"Ah, feels good to be back in this," the barkeep struck a few body-builder poses as Nate laughed. 

"Just remember the strain it puts on your body," he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Having your muscles augmented is great, but remember what happened last time you tried to push it too hard." 

"Yeah, I know," Devin brushed off Nate's hand. "Don't worry, it's not like I'm gonna try to lift a twenty ton tank over my head again. That's what the guns are for." 

"You two comparing war stories again?" Grace asked as she came down the stairs. "So when are we leaving?" 

"'We?'" Nate asked, looking over her old black spy uniform. "What makes you think you're going?" 

"Well someone has to keep an eye on Mandy," she huffed. "The three of you will be so busy fighting that you'll be leaving her completely defenseless." 

Nate sighed, he had been planning to leave Mandy with the other three spies. Perhaps... 

"I have an idea."

* * *

The streets of Los Angeles were barren, cars were left empty, motorcycles left unattended, doors unlocked, some ajar. A chill wind howled between the artificial canyons formed by the buildings, picking up dust and other small bits of debris. This is the scene that welcomed the lone motorcycle weaving between the cars in the middle of the road. 

"Looks like everybody decided to get the hell outta Dodge," Nate commented casually to his non-passenger. 'They're everywhere, he's certainly planned this out as to make sure there's overkill.' 

After stopping the bike, he got off to inspect the barrier of cars, stacked two-high. He unholstered his revolver and looked over at the alley conveniently placed for his use. That was really, really stupid of them to do; to expect him to fall for something so obvious. He snorted, looking around once again at the idiots using his stealth technology...it was almost shameful that they would stoop to using his tech. 

"Gotta hand it to them at least, they're trying to be smart," he chuckled and holstered the revolver. Ok, he could play this game a little longer; rearing his arm back he drove it through the wall of cars, literally blasting a hole through it. 

"FIRE!" came the order from above as several plasma cannons were fired at him, he sighed. 

Wires ripped themselves from buildings, telephone poles and through the pavement, and, to a chorus of silence, quickly ensnared, snapped, broke, and constricted all the WOOHP agents before they could sound an alarm. He then stepped aside to avoid the agent thrown through the hole he'd just made, Devin had arrived...finally. 

"YEAH, TAKE THAT YA' BASTARDS!" he cried with excitement as he swung one of them around like a club, bludgeoning the others around him. "Ah, feels good to be back in the action." 

"I'm sure it does," Nate quipped as he walked through the hole. "Could you try to be a little more quiet?" 

"Why? It's not like he doesn't already know we're here," Devin shrugged before turning to see another agent get hauled from a ledge through a window by more wires. "Heh, they can't even get terrain advantage, high ground does nothing when we got something higher." 

"Yes, almost in position," the green-haired assassin looked up. "They're readying the Daedalus now." 

"Good, I want to see that hunk of junk I built get wrecked." 

"Hmhm, it will," he laughed a little more. "We'd best continue to move." 

"Yeah." 

So they began walking, the conveniently placed alley had been all but forgotten, but Nate hadn't left a single soul alive within it. The walking was somewhat boring, what with most agents being taken care of before they could do anything. It wasn't until they rounded a simple corner before they stopped, there, in front of them, were Sam, Alex and Clover. 

"We can't allow you to proceed," Clover said. 

He head hit the ground as Nate finished his swing, a slightly sadistic smile on his face. While crouching, he spun, the blade sliced clean through the other girls' legs at the knees, toppling them. He stood and sheathed his sword, looking down at the broken remains of three robots. Sighing he stepped over to the Sam and Alex robots who were raising themselves with their arms. 

"Pitiful, he can't even make a good robot that act like them," Devin said, walking over. 

"This a distraction." Wires began seeping through the asphalt, wrapping around, and crushing the remaining too robots. 

"For what?" 

"The powersuits above us, honestly Devin, I think you're losing your senses." 

"Shut up, I don't have RSP (robotic sensory perception) like you," the older man snapped back. 

One of the powersuits landed in front of them, a hulking mass of metal that stood roughly 12 feet tall, it's thick arms and legs hid many weapons, and the two "wings" on the back housed both jet packs for quick, powered flight, and several melee weapons. One of the large, barrel arms opened to reveal a cannon, which was at the moment spinning and powering up. 

"MOVE!" 

Nate and Devin rolled out of the way as the cannon fired, fully demolishing the rest of the car barricade. Immediately afterwards the arm was removed by a sword swipe from Nate, who then had to move due to the attack of another suit, then roll out from under another. Both feet of that one were sliced off as well, leaving it to topple over. Nate stood, brushed a lock of hair from his face, and beckoned the next one. 

Devin had whipped out a pulse rifle and was going to town, even though the armor reflected it. He knew what he was doing, he had helped to design these things, thusly he aimed for the lightly armored "head." This was just an oval piece of metal, with two glowing "eyes." 

"Seriously, come on, is this what they do with my designs?" he asked no one in particular as the first one's head was destroyed, rendering the pilot blind. 

The green-haired man was having a somewhat difficult time, his sword had been broken. After the mandatory "I liked that sword" line, he was currently ripping shits on the one that did it. After ripping off the initial chest plate, he was going to town on the innards, at last reaching the pilot. 

"Hi," he smiled cheerfully enough to make a little girl cry. "You know, I really did like that sword." 

"S-s-sorry?" the pilot questioned. 

"S'all good, I got more," he then stood up, and turned to he rest of them. "Well, your mech's about useless, later." 

He leapt at another one, grabbing the fist that was thrown at him, and literally wrapping himself around the arm, using the newly-formed claws on his arm to climb along. A small missile rack opened in the shoulder, and Nate only had a split second to put his shield before he was blasted from his perch. He landed hard, into the side of a building, actually through the side of the building, and out the other, into the alley. 

"Ha, not so tough," said the mechanical voice of the pilot, opening the cannon arm to fire. 

Devin slid in front of it, pulse rifle at read, and fire straight into the cannon, exploding the arm. He sighed as that was the last of the energy in the power pack, and ejected it. Another mech threw a punch at him, forcing him to ditch the gun altogether, and block, the extra strain causing the green lines on the powersuit he wore to glow brighter. 

"I think you helped me crack my knuckles," Devin smirked, before using his position - currently holding the mech's hand - to swing it around and throw the whole thing into the one behind it. 

He was beginning to breathe heavily, the suit was taking its toll. Reaching back, he pulled two sticky grenades, hucking one left and one right, both attaching to two mechs. While looking to make sure the grenades stuck, he didn't notice the one behind the one in front of him, the panels on it's arm opening, revealing many, many guns, all aimed at him. 

"Shit!" he jumped to the side just in time for the barrage to demolish the rest of the building behind him. 

At that point a beam of energy lanced from the rubble, obliterating three mechs at once. This was followed up by the sound of rubble being tossed aside, and there, on top of it, was Nate, looking completely disheveled. He was also extremely pissed...he did just have building dropped on him after all. In his hand was not a sword, it wasn't even the revolver, in his hand he held his scythe. 

"Ooooo, getting serious, aren't we?" Devin said as he detonated the grenades. 

"I haven't brought her out in a little while," he replied, as he appeared behind another mech; said mech promptly feel apart, having just been slashed eight times. 

Wings burst from his back, but they were small, soon forming hands, which reached down and grabbed the two shotels. The two swords extended into their full forms, and were soon used to cut another mech into quarters. Nate jumped, landing next to Devin, his three weapons at the ready as Devin was pulling out two phase cannons, and hefting them to his shoulders. 

"Let's do this," Devin quipped as he let loose a barrage, which passed through the shield the first mech erected, to strike the target, which blew up in a spectacular explosion. 

"Hmhm, you and your projectile weapons." 

Nate leapt towards the nearest mech, blades flashing in a fluid motion, slicing it to bits. He then spun, lashing out at everything around him, including an innocent mailbox and soda machine. Explosions from rockets and gunfire lit up the ground around them, all of the round missing him due to the almost dance-like moves he was making. 

By the time he had stopped his swathe of destruction, having ended up at the outside of the mass o' mechs, he had changed. He now sported a long, metal tail, which was holding a very, very long, very wide katana. Two more arms had appeared from his back, holding in each a desert eagle. With a somewhat confused look on his face, he turned back around at the mechs which turned to see him. 

"Huh, guess I wasn't watching where I was going." 

With that he leapt onto the closest mech, the claws bursting from his boots gave him the grip he required. He then lashed out with everything, destroying the mech beneath him, and shooting a couple others in the head with his eagle. His tail whipping out slicing another mech in half diagonally. 

And all this was going on while Megadeth played "Symphony of Destruction" in his ears. 

Leaving the torn mech behind, he leapt into the fray again, dodging a blast from Devin's phase cannon. Needless to say the number of enemies was decreasing. Another dodge and slice sent Nate into a headlong meeting with a hand that closed around both of his, and the scythe. He struck with the two shotels, but found them grabbed as well, and his tail was currently being stepped on. 

The hands began crushing, and while the two in back succeeded in ripping off his wings (in reality he ejected them), the one in front simply took the opportunity to bend his scythe, and mangle his hands. The shocked look on Nate's face could have only been rivaled by the pissed look that followed. He slowly looked up into the face of the mech that did the deed. 

"You...bent...my...Shiva." 

Wings, full-sized, burst from his back, impaling the two behind him. Then, lifting the limp carcasses off the ground, he swung them around, crushing the one directly in front of him, but only enough to immobilize it. After extracting the two from his wings, he rammed the wings into the one in front, on either side of the pilot's body, severing his arms at the shoulder. The wings then removed themselves and shifted into giant hands, forming fists above his head, which were then brought down repeatedly onto the mech, each blow emphasizing his words. 

"Do. You. Know. How. Long. It's. Going. To. Take. Me. To. Fix. Her!" with the last pound he crushed the pilot's chamber. 

All the other mechs just stood there, watching this display of raw power and anger, many of them took off, leaving only a few left. Even Devin was standing there, stunned that his companion could reach such depths of pissed; it almost seemed like he was envisioning Felicia's killer. But he knew better, he knew that that weapon was his first, and his favorite, it was the only one he graced with a name. 

Finally, after getting over their initial shock, five jumped him at once. They seemed to have an attack pattern, even if the first one was blocked by a wing, and was subsequently dismembered. The assault kinda worked, as a shield was now in place to prevent further interaction. 

The shield dropped for an instant, and Nate whirled around, dropping the desert eagles and grabbing the shotels, cutting the remaining four to shreds. But as that attack finished, another caught him in the gut, and the blow sent him into another building. That mech was dispatched by Devin. That left one more. 

"That was pretty good acting Girly," Devin yelled over to the hole in the building. 

"Well, I wasn't in control the entire time," called Monica as she stood at the hole. "Oh, look who's left." 

TBC 

Alright, that's it, this ends the chapter, I'm pissed that I had to drag it on this long. But, yes, surprises abound in the next chapter, I'm sure the more clever of you will understand what's higher than the high ground (which, as you know, adds +5 to agility). 


End file.
